Demons
by LillyMayFlower
Summary: Sequel to The Power of Love - Dylan took Lily's accident really hard, but he won't divulge the effects it's having on him to his colleagues, not even Zoe. How long can he keep everything bottled up, and how long before it starts affecting his work and people start working things out for themselves? DISCLAIMER - I don't own Casualty
1. Chapter 1

**So here it is, the start of my sequel to _The Power of Love_. It'll be told from Dylan's perspective mostly, since I really wanted to explore his reaction to the events of that story, and I just really writing his character. I hope you enjoy it, please leave a review to tell me what you think. It'll be about two weeks before the next chapter is uploaded, since I'm going on holiday soon. **

Dylan scowled. It was still dark, and too early, surely, for his alarm clock to be ringing. It felt like he'd only just fallen asleep, and that was probably true: he'd come in from work unable to stop his mind racing. He'd tried everything. Dervla had been exceptionally unimpressed with such a late night walk, especially since there had been frost deeply settled on the ground since the middle of last week. Dylan had been equally disgusted by one of those weird calming teas Zoe had left behind when she moved out. Reading, classical music, nothing had worked to empty his head of racing thoughts, and the one thought in particular which seemed to be constantly torturing him these days. The fact that Lily Chao had an artificial foot, and it was all his fault.

He had been the doctor in charge of her care, when the building she was pulling a patient from collapsed and her appendix ruptured, having been grumbling for weeks. She shouldn't have even been in that building, but she insisted to everyone that she was fine. Bloody junior doctors, always thinking they were invincible or something! He should have been able to save her foot, her should have started antibiotics sooner to hold the infection back, he should have...

And there it was, the Terrible Thought, the one that kept him awake at night. It was strictly between himself and Dervla, his faithful wolfhound; he couldn't even bring himself to tell Zoe, whom he told everything about himself, and who knew goodness knows what else besides.

Lily Chao shouldn't have been on the trauma team that day at all. It should have been him, but when he heard Connie mention it, he had immediately busied himself in triage. Something petty, maybe a broken arm, that someone else could have, should have dealt with. He should have gone with Ethan, Lily should have stayed behind, then when she'd been taken ill someone would have noticed sooner, and nothing would even have happened to her legs. Guilt permeated his mind like smoke, every waking moment and come to think of it, every sleeping moment too, and he was powerless to make it stop.

And now, sure enough, even though the sun wouldn't reach the horizon for a couple of hours yet, it was five thirty in the morning, so his alarm clock was correct to be pulling him from an uneasy sleep. He showered in the tiny bathroom at the back of the boat and tried yet again to clear his head. He was almost managing it, until he inadvertently rubbed his eye with a hand covered in lemon-scented shower gel. He swore loudly as he tried to rinse it out.

Heading into the kitchen, he was greeted by the sight of Dervla, sitting by her water bowl with disapproval written all over her face.

"Yes, all right, I'm coming," he muttered, stroking her ears fondly before filling the bowl with fresh water and topping up the biscuits in her second bowl. He made a bowl of porridge for himself, which despite his best efforts he could only eat half of. Dylan drained his coffee mug at 6.17 precisely and walked Dervla to the car without a lead. She was old and calm and didn't often need it these days. She sat in the front passenger sear, riding shotgun as she had done for years, on any journeys without human passengers. He left her at the doggy daycare centre at half past six, with the same precise description he left every day.

"Dylan, you look exhausted," Zoe said when she met him, walking across the car park of Holby's Emergency Department.

"I do love having a best friend who is so brutally honest," he replied, with an obvious edge of sarcasm.

"I'm being serious, are you okay to be in work today?" she asked, catching the sleeve of his coat to stop him walking away.

"Zoe, don't treat me like a child please, I've rather become accustomed to being treated like an adult. Because I am on." There was a pause, because Dylan knew he'd overstepped the mark of the sarcastic banter he and Zoe usually shared. His tiredness was becoming more evident, and he vowed to try and bite his tongue next time. "I'm sorry, that came out rather ruder than I had hoped."

"Not a problem," Zoe said breezily, pulling her coat tighter around her against the chill wind, a smug glint in her eye. "I know exactly who's buying coffee today though." Dylan sighed, knowing she'd won. She usually did.

Even though it was at his own expense, Dylan was appreciative of the coffee. Zoe looked confused when he ordered his coffee black – usually he took it with just a dash of milk and a sugar packet and a half. She restrained herself from asking again if he was okay; he was clearly in a fragile mood and wouldn't take kindly to it. Zoe made and urgent mental note to warn Connie that there could be something going on.

But Connie took the same line as Dylan.

"You shouldn't interfere Zoe, he's a grown man, and as he so elegantly pointed out, he doesn't need you to treat him like a child."

"Connie, you don't know Dylan like I do. I'm just saying, tread carefully -" But she didn't get a chance to go on, before Lofty burst into the office.

"Mrs Beauchamp, you need to get out here, now," he said, sounding like he'd just run the length of the department.

"Staff Nurse Chiltern, you have no right to tell me what to do," Connie said coldly.

"I know, and I'm sorry," he said quickly. "It's Dr Keogh." Zoe rolled her eyes at Connie and raised her hands in a way that clearly said _'What did I tell you?"_

In the middle of reception, Dylan was arguing loudly with a patient, a clearly obese woman who seemed to be having difficulty getting her point across to Louise whilst holding a dispute with Dylan. Zoe and Connie looked at each other, in silent and seamless agreement of their course of action. Zoe pulled Dylan away to her office, while Connie gently steered the woman to hers, making apologetic eyes at Louise and looking daggers at Dylan's back.

He was still fuming when they reached Zoe's office, but that was nothing to Zoe's new frame of mind.

"Dylan! What the hell were you thinking?" she exploded, knowing full well their conversation would be heard outside, despite the door being closed.

"I was merely trying to make a point, that it's a cold and icy day, and all the advice on the news was to stay indoors unless it's an essential journey," he said, his hands shaking with what looked more to be anxiety than fury, in Zoe's eyes.

"Dylan, I'm not stupid. What did you say after that?"

"I may have pointed out -"  
"Stop beating around the bush!" Zoe said furiously. "If this woman makes a complaint, or goes to the press, all our necks are on the line here!"

"Regardless, I'd still say a trip to a cake shop, for a woman of her size, is a non-essential journey!" Dylan snapped, his tone somewhere between irritable and disguising a smirk, even though his hands still shook. Zoe sat down at her desk, sighing deeply. She didn't have to ask whether Dylan had been stupid enough to actually say this to the patient. She dropped her anger, knowing it would get her nowhere.

"What's up with you today? You're clearly exhausted, you took your coffee black – which you never do," Dylan flinched as she said this; he thought she hadn't noticed the coffee. "And you're not yourself, you're usually snippy with me but not like this, and never with the patients."

"I'm fine," he insisted, rubbing his hands together anxiously but keeping his tone steady. "I just let my temper get the better of me." Zoe rolled her eyes.

"You better hope this woman's complaint doesn't get the better of you either," she said.

"Don't think I don't know why you're pressing me for answers like this," he said. He knew and understood Zoe's motives exactly, but he wished he didn't. She still felt bad for letting Lily slip through her fingers, but he'd like to bet she was still eating and sleeping.

Connie was equally as angry as Zoe had been: she sent Dylan home early, Zoe's advice to tread carefully completely slipping her mind.

Dylan drove home feeling empty, with none of his old satisfaction from a sarcastic remark. Dervla looked somewhat confused to be going home early, and even more so later in the evening, when she sat hopefully by the door of the boat. It was their usual walk-time, but Dylan just shook his head.

"Not tonight, Stinky," he said affectionately. She seemed to understand, and sat with her head resting on his lap. Her comforting presence and the heavy heat of her head on his thigh helped Dylan fall into sleep.

The peace only lasted a few hours, until a nightmare jolted him awake. The image of Lily being pulled from that building flashed through his mind again and again. He took himself to bed, but he lay staring at the ceiling for most of the night.


	2. Chapter 2

**I didn't expect to finish another chapter this week, but I did, so I thought I might as well share it before I go on holiday. I'm sure I won't be able to maintain the pace I kept up with The Power of Love, these chapters are taking forever in comparison, I don't know why! Lily and Ethan pretty much wrote themselves, but this is considerably more difficult so you'll have to be more patient this time around I think! Anyway, hope you enjoy the chapter :)**

 **Also, thank you to everyone who has reviewed so far (I always forget to add this to chapters, but I appreciate all of you who review, and favourite and follow, I promise!)**

It had been a relentless shift, and it was only half over. Zoe bought the coffee: even if Dylan wouldn't tell her what was wrong, she wanted to at least try to make it better. She could see and unfamiliar shake in his hands, and there had to be a reason why he was helping the junior doctors with so many procedures, meaning he didn't have to do them himself. But his lips were sealed. He wouldn't answer her frequent questions about his well-being, and he was lucky that his medical competence hadn't slipped, or she would have been forced to report him to Connie again, whether she wanted to listen or not. Zoe was extremely glad of ending up working with him in resus that afternoon.

"Okay, this is Emily, she's twenty two and slipped on ice in the town centre about two hours ago. Fully conscious throughout, BP normal but slightly tachycardic. Definite wrist fracture and bruising at least to legs, we immobilised her neck and spine at the scene as a precaution more than anything. Resps normal, sats of 97%, we gave her five of morphine on route and she's had entonox. We'll leave you to shall we?" Dixie said as she and Jeff wheeled the patient into resus bay two. Zoe looked at Dylan, but to her relief, his face read like a book: his expression was glazed in concentration but he was still listening intently and observing Emily with great focus. He looked normal.

They moved Emily onto the bed and got to work. Zoe performed all of the basic checks while Dylan closely inspected the external injuries.

"What are we thinking, just to get us on the same page?" she asked after Dylan had felt along Emily's legs.

"Dixie was almost spot on with everything – that wrist will need an X-ray ASAP – and they were right to immobilise her. Emily, can you feel me touching your legs?" He put his fingertips on her ankles.

"No," Emily replied, in a voice tinged with panic. "That's bad, isn't it?"

"We don't know anything for sure yet," Zoe said comfortingly.

"At the moment we're going to leave you immobilised, okay?" Dylan said. "I think you may have bruised your spine, which would explain your loss of feeling. Do you remember hitting your head at all?"

"I'm sure I didn't," Emily said, concentrating.

"Okay," Zoe said. "Any dizziness or nausea since your fall?"

"Well, I feel sick, but -" Dylan cut across her reply to shine a torch in her eyes and check for any sign of damage to her head. Zoe called upstairs immediately for an urgent head CT scan: she always refused to take any risks with head injuries.

"Have you found anything yet Dylan?" she asked tensely.

Dylan, in comparison, was completely calm, not panicking in the slightest. Although she was worried about Emily's injuries, this made Zoe very happy, just to see him acting normally. He grunted by way of response, signalling that he'd found nothing so far.

"I don't know why we're checking for head injuries. She was fully conscious throughout, and I trust her judgement in saying that she didn't hit her head at all," he said, clearly deep in thought. Zoe concealed a smile – when he was in this frame of mind his face was far too easy to read, she could almost see the Sherlock Holmes side of his brain ticking into overdrive. She was about to ask exactly where his thoughts were travelling, when Emily suddenly retched and they had to act quickly with the nurses present to roll her, so she wouldn't choke. Emily groaned in pain.

"I'm sorry," she whispered to Zoe, looking up at her when she'd been rolled back.

"You think we haven't seen anyone throw up before? This is A&E darling, don't worry about it. All we're concerned for is why it happened." Zoe caught Max's eye as he passed resus, and gestured to the dirty patch on the floor. He rolled his eyes and she smiled smugly.

"I've got an idea," Dylan said, a little uncertainly. "It's an obscure one, I grant you, but Emily, do you if there's any family history of allergies to medication?"

"My mum and sister," she said immediately. "But I can never remember what they're allergic to."

"Morphine." Dylan said triumphantly. "I'd put my boat on it. Dr Hanna, would you mind finding one of those beautifully attractive red bracelets for me please?" Zoe obliged, and Dylan printed MORPHINE on the bracelet in very neat, identically-sized block capitals. He then wrote his signature underneath, a virtually illegible scrawl that looked like it may have started with a 'K'. He put the bracelet around Emily's wrist.

When Emily had been moved to a ward, Zoe couldn't hold in her smile any longer.

"What?" he said. "You've had that face on since I said 'Morphine' about three minutes ago. What have I done?"

"Oh nothing, I'm just pleased to see the Dr Keogh I've been missing."

"Missing? Has he been somewhere?" Dylan said, feigning an innocent tone, deeply undercut with sarcasm that was definitely not faked.

"It certainly felt like it," she said as she put her plastic apron in the bin. "You just haven't been yourself lately."

"I'm sure I don't know what you're talking about. I've been fine, there's nothing wrong." Zoe looked closely at his face; the darkening circles under his eyes begged to differ with that last sentence. There wasn't time to pursue the matter, but Zoe wouldn't have done anyway. Not yet, even though she could almost feel her friend slipping through her fingers, exactly as Lily had done.

The doors of resus swung open less than a second later. _No rest for the wicked_ , Zoe though, as they moved the young woman onto the bed in bay four. She looked at the patient but was distracted by Dylan for a few seconds. His victorious expression had been completely erased. Looking back at the patient, and listening to Jeff, she realised why.

"Right, this is Charlotte, mid-thirties, only casualty from an ice-caused RTC. She was pulled from the car by a clueless member of the public -"

"Oh bloody hell," Dylan said in frustration.

" -so we've got no idea what effect this will have had on her," Jeff went on. "Sever impact injuries to the chest but on scene we were more concerned for her legs." Dylan looked at the woman's face before her severely crushed and bleeding legs. She was of Asian origin, and wore her hair in a smooth ponytail, like Lily. There was very little make-up on her paling face, and to make things worse, her cardigan, although dirty and smeared with blood, was the exact shade of green of the trauma suits. He fought to pull himself from a flashback to the collapsed building.

"Fluctuating resps, low BP, GCS of 7 since we got to her, sats of 95% with oxygen, she's had ten of morphine and drugs to try and stop the bleeding from her legs." Zoe listened carefully to Jeff's words, but kept half an eye on Dylan the whole time. He barely felt like he was in the room. His mind had transported him back to that day: he could hear the sounds echoing and his mouth was dry from the dust in the air–

"Dylan," Zoe said softly, her hand on his. "Go and tell Connie she needs to take this one." Dixie and Jeff silently excused themselves from the room. Although he could feel his chest tightening uncomfortably, he shook his head. He undid the top button of his shirt and loosened his collar, taking a deep breath. Zoe stared at him, he couldn't be serious.

"No, I'm fine, it just would have been – nice to – to get a breather before the next one. But I'm okay, stop worrying, unless it's about the patient." Zoe remained unconvinced. She turned to Lofty, who had just come in with a small army of nurses.

"Lofty, phone upstairs and make sure they've got a theatre free. Then I'll need two units of O-neg and a further six units cross-matched," she said smoothly. "Dylan, you check out the chest impact while I stop the bleeding down here."

"Okay," he said, with considerable effort not to reveal the mess inside his head. He checked how many of her ribs were broken. Four. He tried very hard to block out the memory of a patient telling him that in Chinese culture, the number four was almost homophonous with death. He tried equally hard to ignore the fact that they were working in bay four. Compulsively he counted Charlotte's ribs again, more carefully this time. There were definitely four broken. He pushed the tense knot in his stomach out of his mind and suppressed the shake in his hands.

"I wish Lofty would hurry up with the blood," Zoe said in exasperation. Dylan wished he could put his anxiety in a box and throw it to the other side of Holby. He knew his breathing was getting faster, and if he couldn't drag it under control it would only be a matter of time before Zoe realised what was happening.

The bleep of Charlotte's heart monitor caused them both to jump to attention. Her heart had stopped.

Dylan had started chest compressions before Zoe could even get the words out of her mouth. He pushed down on Charlotte's ribs, knowing there would be more than four broken now. He could hear Zoe counting the compressions, a tense whisper he could only just detect over the harsh sounds of the heart monitor.

"That's four cycles with no output," Zoe said, sounding defeated. Dylan's heart dropped through the floor. Not four.

"We're – I'm not stopping."

"Dylan, you've done all four cycles of CPR and we've shocked her four times with the defib. You have to call it at some point."

"After five then, come on!" he shouted.

"Dylan, stop, please, it's not helping and you're getting yourself so worked up." He continued pumping Charlotte's chest furiously. Zoe looked at the group of nurses in resus with them. "Please just go, we can finish here." As soon as they were gone, and the doors had swung shut, she pulled Dylan off their patient forcefully, almost tripping in her heels.

He looked like he was falling apart as she uttered the words she knew he wouldn't.

"Time of death, 17:46."


	3. Chapter 3

**Back from holidays now, so here's the next chapter for you! You'll be glad to know I've prewritten up to chapter eight now, so I should be uploading every day (maybe twice if I'm feeling exceptionally generous - or remember to type them up from my notebook!) Thank you if you've reviewed already, please let me know what you think of this chapter :)**

Lily tried to work with Dylan as little as possible because she knew how uncomfortable it made him. She could see massive, ground-shaking changes in his manner, and she didn't like it. It was a shame, she thought, that they couldn't work together much now: she genuinely liked working with him. Far aside from being the one who saved her life, Dr Keogh was a constant, almost a cornerstone of Holby ED. He was sarcastic, and frequently entertaining from the viewpoint of a fledgling clinician, but he was also one of the most skilled doctors she'd ever had the privilege of working with. His knowledge was exceptionally varied but deep as well, and his problem solving was second to none. He was the kind of doctor she aspired to be.

Undoubtedly there was something wrong, and she knew deep down, whether he let on or not, that a major part of it was to do with her.

Dylan was exhausted. He just wanted to sleep, but every time her tried he was awake again in a few hours from a nightmare, or a flashback, or more recently a wave of panic crushing him from all sides. He knew he was going to start making mistakes soon, which was why he spent so long checking everything he did nowadays, much to the frustration of his colleagues.

"Dylan," Connie said sharply. "There are patient notes missing. Four of them are yours."

"Oh, of course," he said, falsely breezy. "They're – ah – in my locker, I'll bring them down as soon as I can."

"Before the end of the shift please," she said, not seeing him tap his thigh anxiously with the fingertips of his left hand, in sequences of four. Tap-tap-tap-tap. Pause. Tap-tap-tap-tap. He nodded, feeling his chest tighten, knowing the notes _were_ in his locker but that they were a complete mess, not up to Connie's standards at all. Relief flooded him as she walked away: he knew his hands had started to shake. He jammed them in his pockets and rushed to the locker room.

Cal was leaning against the wall, tapping the coin between his fingers on the metallic side of the lockers. The noise was ear-splitting, grating, and to Dylan it seemed louder and more echoing than it should have done.

"WILL YOU STOP THAT?" he shouted at Cal, who jumped half out of his skin.

"All right, calm down," he said patronisingly, before leaving the room. Dylan mentally kicked himself for flying off the handle so quickly. He pulled his key from his pocket, but his hands were still shaking and he dropped it, sending it skidding under the lockers. He slammed his hand into his locker door in frustration. Why now? Dylan heard the door click open again and was glad of being able to control his breathing so quickly this time.

"Can I help" Lily asked softly, sensing the tension in the room.

"I – um – yes, maybe." He sighed, trying not to stammer again. "M-my L-l." He clenched his fists furiously. He wanted to get the words out and get out of this situation, but his frustration only seemed to be making it worse. To give Lily her due, she waited patiently and didn't try to second-guess the words in his head. "Can I start again?"

"Be my guest, just take your time, I'm in no rush," she said calmly. He took a breath through his nose and released it through his mouth, which helped further bring his breathing to a normal speed and slow his racing heart.

"My locker key currently resides _under_ the lockers, and I'd rather like it to be in my hand, but I'm 100% sure I can't reach it," he said slowly, pushing the words out although he hated asking for help. If those notes weren't such a priority, he'd have escaped from this situation and made out like he needed a new key.

"I'll get it out, don't worry about it." Lily paused, knowing that Dylan wouldn't want to hear what she wanted to say. "Dr Keogh?"

"Yes, Lily?" She fidgeted with her sleeve a little.

"If there's something wrong, I think you should tell someone." She looked away quickly, feeling like she'd spoken out of turn. She knelt down on the floor, looking for the key, then lay down flat on her stomach and slid her arm under the lockers. She cringed as dust and weeks of grime met her touch before her fingers closed around a cold metal key.

"Thank you," he said, a little stiffly, as she put the key into his hand.

"You're very welcome. Now, if you'll excuse me, I need to wash my hands, that was quite honestly the most disgusting thing I've ever done." She relaxed as Dylan cracked a small smile.

"Lily?" he said quickly as she excused herself from the room. "I'm okay. You really don't have to worry about me." Lily nodded, covering her uncertainty with a smile.

'What did you really expect?" Ethan asked her when she recounted the exchange to him.

"Well, I don't know exactly. I didn't want him to brush it off and pretend I hadn't said anything more important than tomorrow's weather forecast, that's for sure."

"Nothing at all like what you did then," he said gently, fully expecting the light slap on the shoulder that this remark earned him. "I'm just saying, you're more similar than you realise. "You're both very stoic, let's-get-on-with-it-then kind of people. And neither of you like to let people help you with your problems."

"And _you're_ far too good with words, you know that don't you?" Ethan raised his eyebrows at her. "And I love you for it." She kissed his cheek but allowed herself to be pulled into a real kiss. It was a mark of how far her confidence had come since her accident, that she didn't object to being kissed publicly anymore.

In possession of his notes, Dylan resigned himself to the on-call room over his lunch break to copy them out. Once again, he wasn't hungry, which was lucky as you couldn't eat in the on-call room. Zoe noticed his absence in the staffroom, as her lunch break fell at the same time as his. She wasn't worried, after all, as she'd had pointed out to her numerous times, he wasn't a child and didn't need looking out for. But Zoe was happy to disregard that last part. Since he broke down in resus that day he did need somebody looking out for him. An image stuck in her mind – two, actually – the defeated expression he'd worn when she pulled him away from their deceased patient, and the way she'd seen him throw away toast, three times now. It wasn't like him at all, he usually ate like a horse, hence the toast at crazy times of day (and night, occasionally.) She made her way out to reception, when she could rely on there always being a small gaggle of staff.

"Bit of an odd question, I know, but humour me. Has anyone seen Dr Keogh eat anything today?" she asked, after checking thoroughly that Dylan was definitely not in the vicinity. After some funny looks, the consensus was no, he hadn't eaten anything since the shift started, at least, not in the presence of any of the staff in reception at that moment, Zoe covered any worry that might have shown on her face by rushing back to the staffroom, which, quite by chance, was completely empty.

Dylan threw another screwed-up sheet of paper into the waste paper basket. He clenched one fist anxiously as he realised this was his fourth attempt to copy out the same set of notes. He wished he could turn off the dark clouds in his head, the ones which threatened panic at every opportunity and seemed to throw him in at the deep end of every situation, not leaving him any leg room to stop things going wrong.

He was collecting his belongings from the locker room at the end of the shift when Zoe came in to do the same.

"There you are, I've been looking for you all afternoon!" she said, revealing more relief than she had originally intended.

"At lunchtime I filed some papers," he lied, "and then, believe it or not, I was doing my job. It's not like I was playing hide and seek."

"No, I know," Zoe said. "I'm taking you out for dinner tonight," she stated, knowing that being direct was the best way forward with Dylan.

"Zoe, I hate to break it to you, but you're already in a relationship. And although I'm flattered that you'd consider cheating on Max for me -" he said sarcastically before Zoe cut him off.

"Will you stop? I didn't mean like a date."

"No?" he replied, in mock disappointment.

"It wasn't an offer when we lived together on the boat for the three years, it's not an offer now. I'll come and pick you up at seven."

"What about Dervla?" he asked, wanting more than anything to find a reason not to go.

"Sorted, stop worrying."

Sitting in the car with Max, on the way home, he noticed she was biting her lip.

"You only do that when you haven't told me something," he said. "Come on, out with it Zoe."

"You know I said I was taking Dylan out tonight?"

"Yes, although I don't know how you could possibly love him more than you love me..." Zoe flicked his ear.

"Oh shut up, I already got this from him! I'm doing him a favour, okay, because there's something not right and he needs to talk."

"Yeah, only he doesn't know it yet," Max said, drumming his fingertips on the steering wheel impatiently, waiting for the lights to change and finishing Zoe's sentence. "I can tell there's more, go on."

"I may have told him I had a dog sitter lined up for this evening."

"You're joking."

"Do I sound like it? I love you," she wheedled, knowing that Max wouldn't be able to resist.


	4. Chapter 4

**Here's the next chapter for you. This one and the two after it all run smoothly into each other, but if I'd kept them in one chapter it would have been ridiculously long. I hope I split them right, and I hope you enjoy them!**

When they lived together, Zoe and Dylan ate out as a pair fairly regularly. It had been a long time since they'd done it now, and he didn't honestly think he could stomach a plate of food, but he ordered pasta like always, for old times' sake and to try and put Zoe's mind at rest. While they waited for their food to arrive, he decided bravely, to voice just one of the worries circling his mind.

"Did, um, a complaint ever come through? About that -" He cleared his throat, trying to sound nonchalant over nervous. "About that incident," he said, referring to his remarks to the overweight woman. Zoe had to stop herself rolling her eyes. Of all the worries he clearly had at the moment, this was the one at the forefront? Then it struck her, he might be trying to work through his minor stresses first, to build up to the one causing him so much hassle.

"Surprisingly, no. I haven't got a clue what Connie said to her but we've had nothing back from her at all."

"I find that exceptionally difficult to believe," he said, taking off his watch and putting it in his pocket. The battery had stopped at four o'clock, setting him on edge for the remainder of the shift. He couldn't take it off in work though: everyone knew he always wore a watch, so someone would be bound to ask questions if his left wrist was suddenly bare.

When their food arrived, Zoe watched Dylan push the pasta shells around the plate listlessly, barely eating a thing. It made her feel uncomfortable, usually this was a man whose body clock ran on three square meals a day, who normally ate like he'd never see food again. She looked at his face and could have cried there and then if it wasn't for the fact that Zoe Hanna Did Not Cry in Public. Dylan was paler than usual, which only served to highlight the darkening circles under his eyes. They had lost their sparkle, that glint that she'd come to recognise as meaning so many different things. He barely looked like himself, and she just wanted to help but knew he wouldn't take it well if she tried. She decided she no longer cared about his reaction, she just wanted her best friend back.

"Right, enough. You need to let me help you, because right now I'm not even sure who you are any more."

"Zoe, don't overreact, it's not a pretty state of mind," he said, trying to brush it off while stalling for time, searching for a reason for it all that she'd actually believe. His options, he knew, were extremely limited. There was always the truth, but that would only earn him a few weeks off work, and when his hands and mind weren't busy, that left space for his mind to run riot.

"Stop it, I'm serious. Since when did Dylan Keogh pass up a plate of food? Please don't try and tell me you ate earlier, I've got it on good account from most of the ED that you haven't eaten a thing all day," she said, worry evident in her voice. Although touched that she cared so much, it was far easier for Dylan to let his anger flare up than to release his fears and worries.

"You had no right to get involved and start poking your nose into my business," he snapped. "I am not five years old, I don't need a babysitter!" It was like the words he spoke weren't even his own, they flew of their own accord and it wasn't fair, of all people Zoe did not deserve his cruel words and impatience. "I didn't meant that," he blurted out, knowing it wasn't enough to erase the hurt he'd caused. Luckily, Zoe was too firmly set on her mission to be absorbing the words.

"You can keep pushing me away, Dylan, but I am always going to be here. We've been friends for a long time, so I can see there's something on your mind – and it's not that woman and her complaint that never was. I know you far too well, come on Dylan, please." She was almost pleading with him to speak. He nodded slowly. He couldn't tell her the whole story, she'd think he was insane, but it wouldn't hurt to tell her part of it. One less black cloud to worry about, even if it was only a small one.

It was remarkable how little the words wanted to come out, even once he'd permitted them to be heard. He ate some more of his now lukewarm pasta, not because he was hungry (he wasn't, his stomach was rolling at the prospect of speaking out)but because he could see Zoe visibly relax as he did so. When his plate was almost empty, Zoe exemplified her admirable mind-reading skills.

"Okay, you've proved a point. Now please tell me what's wrong." Dylan put down his fork and knew Zoe could see his hand shaking. He was glad she couldn't hear his heart racing or feel his chest tighten anxiously. She lowered her voice, realising how difficult this was proving to be. "Just go slowly, yeah? I've got as long as you need."

 _I highly doubt that_ , he thought. But out loud, he said, "I wouldn't have the faintest idea where to start," he said truthfully.

"Anywhere is a good start," Zoe said. "Usually I'd suggest the beginning but I'm guessing you're not entirely sure where the beginning is."

"Your intelligence and many years of medical school are shining tonight, I'm telling you," Dylan said, trying to relax and succeeding a little – his dry sense of humour certainly couldn't hurt, but it was only helping him skirt around this issue. "I can't, Zoe," he conceded. "I feel so pathetic. This isn't supposed to happen!"

"What's not supposed to happen?" she asked, praying he wasn't about to shut her out again.

"This! I'm a doctor, I'm meant to give help not need it!"

Zoe knew the public nature of the restaurant wasn't helping matters, so she quietly covered the whole bill herself and told Dylan they'd continue the conversation on the boat.

"I assume it hasn't become a complete man cave since I last saw it?" she joked.

"Not at all, shelves still lined with medical journals and vinyls of bands I'm too young to remember," Dylan said, glad to be taking about something other than himself.

"And an entire shelf of classical music -"

"-Purely to prove to you that someone could take enjoyment from it," he said, effortlessly predicting the end of her sentence. "Your memory is astounding. And before you ask, I do still take enjoyment from it. I do!" he insisted as Zoe raised her eyebrows.

She texted Max to meet them at the boat with Dervla, which he duly did. Zoe saw an instant change in Dylan as he was reunited with his sidekick, his plus one, the best and only companion he'd ever needed. The part of him that had seemed so closed off seemed to come alive, and a little of the sparkle in his eyes immediately returned. Zoe kissed Max and squeezed his hand with one of hers, the other at the back of his neck, stroking his hair.

"Thank you so much for this," she said. "I might be home later, or -" and she whispered the last part, although Dylan was now stroking Dervla's tummy and probably couldn't hear a word. " -Or I might be taking up the spare room. I don't know how this is going to go." She resumed her normal volume. "I love you, all the way to the moon," she said, rubbing small circles on the back of his hand with her thumb.

"I love you all the way to the moon, and back," Max replied. "I win." He tucked a strand of Zoe's hair behind her ear and left her with a parting kiss. He could taste her on his lips as he drove away: cigarettes, white wine and a breath mint. He knew one half of their bed would be cold tonight.

Zoe poured two glasses of wine and purposely clinked them together a little as she put them on the table, to ensure she had Dylan's full attention.

"Right, out with it Keogh, we were getting somewhere before, so now there's no-one listening except me, and Dervla, please, please, tell me what's wrong."

"Just because we're on the boat, does not mean I know what to say," he said. He sighed. "I'm stressed, okay? So beyond stressed that I can't sleep at night and I'm not eating normally. I can't sleep because my mind won't stop bloody reminding me of everything I keep doing wrong, and all the times I've messed up and made a tit of myself. I can barely get a sentence out in front of the junior doctors now -"

"Lily," Zoe correctly guessed.

"Not just her!" Dylan lied. "I know you've seen me helping them with so much, but that's only because I know if I try I'll do it wrong because my hands shake so hard in any kind of pressured situation." Zoe could hear his voice shake and felt a lump rise in her throat. She wanted to hug him; she knew that anyone else would be comforted by it. But she also knew that vulnerable as Dylan was right now, a hug wouldn't be greatly appreciated.

It was almost instinctive, the way Dervla came to Dylan's side. She gave Zoe an extremely disapproving look as she realised the gap between the two doctors was too small for her to sit in. She put two paws up on the sofa and moaned.

"Don't let me stop you," she said, stroking Dervla's ears fondly and moving to the armchair opposite. Any therapy she could provide would be far overshadowed by comfort from his four legged friend. _I wondered how long it would be_ , she thought, _before I started talking to that dog like another person again_.

"Please don't say anything to Connie," Dylan said quietly after a while.

"What kind of evil, back-stabbing best friend do you take me for?" she replied. "Maybe a few days away from it all would do you good," she went on, knowing this would be what worried him about telling the Clinical Lead.

"No," Dylan said, quicker than he had intended. "That wouldn't make things any better, I've got too much to do."

"Okay," Zoe reasoned. "For now, this stays between us. But you need to keep on top of things, and find a way to clear your head at the end of the day. I don't know how much longer I can keep this to myself if things get any worse."

"They won't." Dylan promised. He knew it might take some seriously late nights, but his paperwork, at the bottom of his list of concerns, couldn't be that difficult to sort.

Zoe did stay on the boat that night. Comforted by her presence, even in the next room, it was the first night in a while where Dylan was able to sleep through the night, not plagued once by the nightmares which usually disrupted him.

 **I think I'll upload chapter five this evening, so you won't have to wait too long :)**


	5. Chapter 5

**As promised, here's chapter five, I hope you like it x**

After a good night's sleep, even Dylan couldn't deny that things felt a little less daunting. Only a little. He dropped Dervla off at the doggy daycare centre earlier than usual, and drove Zoe home to change for work. As she got out of the car, he pressed a note and a cluster of coins into her hand – his half of the restaurant bill.

"I noticed," he half-smiled, referencing the fact that she'd paid for it all herself and thought he hadn't realised. "And I really appreciate your help. Thank you." _This whole 'being nice' thing is a lot harder than it looks_ , he thought, feeling shy for the first time since he was a teenager.

"I'm always going to be here to listen, Dylan," she said, before closing the car door and waving goodbye as he drove away.

Rita Freeman was leaving after her night shift when she passed Dylan's office. She looked through the window out of habit, not expecting to see the consultant on the other side of the glass, looking like he was drowning in paperwork. He looked up and noticed her looking. She came to the door and put her hand on the handle, waiting for his nod of approval before entering.

"You're early," she smiled. "I didn't expect to see you here at, what is it, six o'clock? I thought you were in the seven o'clock lot today." Dylan wasn't sure what to make of this sentence; he hadn't been aware of anyone paying him this much attention, excluding Zoe (who seemed to be following his every move these days.)

"I am _supposed_ to be starting at seven, but as you can see, I've let my office become something of a dumping ground, so I, um, thought I'd try and get on top of things before my – before my shift." He silently berated himself for not being able to get the sentence out without stammering over the words. He looked mournfully at the mounds of paper surrounding his cross-legged form on the floor. Rita surveyed the room sympathetically, before sitting down opposite him, mirroring his cross-legged position and neatening a stack of folders which had just toppled over.

"What can I do to help?" she said kindly.

"Don't you need to go home and sleep? I don't think Connie needs more reasons to dislike you, don't add exhaustion at work to her list," he said, relaxed enough to almost smile. He hoped Rita didn't have to go home, in all truth he enjoyed her company, and it would be nice to have a little help. He was pleased when the Clinical Nurse Manager shook her head, laughing a little as her fringe slipped out of the bobby pins above her left ears and fell over her eyes. As she tucked it back behind her ear, Dylan realised how much he loved Rita's laugh. It wasn't quiet, it was more than a giggle, but just sometimes she would smile wide enough that he could see the tooth on the right that wasn't quite straight. That's when her laugh had the power to fill a room and make everyone in it feel better. He forced himself to concentrate on what she was saying.

"No, it's my changeover day. I'm _meant_ to be sorting out my sleep patterns before starting back on days on Thursday."

"And instead you're sitting here, sorting out my paperwork," he said. She laughed again, but less this time.

"A few hours isn't going to hurt, and the longer I can stay awake now, the less my body clock will be messed up."

"Okay, well anything dated before the New Year over there, anything afterwards over here, and anything with Connie's handwriting on -"

"Straight through the shredder," Rita said, clapping a hand over her mouth as the words escaped and spluttering with laughter. "I did not mean to say that out loud!" She looked over her shoulder, as if worried the Clinical Lead might be hovering behind her, then to Dylan, who she was relieved to see had found it equally funny.

"I'll pretend I didn't hear that, but we've all thought it. I think a wiser choice – a safer choice would be that tray over there -" he pointed to a tray with a post-it note propped against it: "E̶v̶i̶l̶ ̶O̶v̶e̶r̶l̶o̶r̶d̶ Clinical Lead." He smiled wickedly.

There was something extremely liberating about finding whole reams of forms destined for Connie's desk.

At seven o'clock the office was nowhere near finished, but it was considerably clearer and at least there was space on the desk now.

"I could stay and do the last bit, if you want," Rita offered.

"No, it's nearly seven and I have to go and be a proper doctor, so you need to go home and rest. I don't want you staying up any longer, God knows how long you've been awake already and I really wouldn't want you to have an accident and end up back in here from driving tired."

"I'll see you Thursday then?" she said, sounding pleased at the thought of it.

"Thursday," he said definitely. "Thanks for this Rita, you've been a massive help."

"My pleasure. Have a good day Dylan," she said.

"You too," he replied, and realised that he meant it.

 _The shift seems pretty average_ , Dylan thought, _a broken arm, a torn Achilles tendon, a timewaster who just needed two ibuprofen and a cup of coffee, and yet another injury from the unrelenting ice_. By all accounts a rather nasty RTC had gone through resus and it had been touch and go whether the patient would even make it upstairs to AAU, but by the same accounts Zoe and Connie had worked their magic and eventually things were running almost smoothly.

At half past ten, Connie threw a spanner in the works of what had looked like a day going well.

"I need your statement for Charlotte Cross' post-mortem, Dylan," she said, having caught him near cubicles.

"That's not a problem," he said, genuinely calmly. "It's on my desk, you'll have it by eleven o'clock." He was very glad to have found it in his clean-up operation this morning, all he had to do now was check it through and hand it over. But then Connie spoke again, and his blood ran cold.

"Her parents would like to see you, they just need reassuring that you did everything you could. They're coming in at half past eleven, so don't get tied up in anything between now and then if you can help it." She strode away confidently, her red-soled heels clicking menacingly.

At that moment, Dylan would have given anything – his career, his boat, maybe not Dervla, that was pushing it, but anything else – not to have to go to that meeting with Charlotte Cross' parents. Because he knew right then that there was something he should have done, something he forgot to do. He made his way to his office, his heart racing and his palms uncomfortably clammy. The post-mortem statement was on the desk: as he read through it he had to grip the edge of the desk. He sat down, tapping his thigh, panicking. Tap-tap-tap-tap. Pause. Tap-tap-tap-tap. ' _I double checked the patient's ECG results and saw no abnormalities,_ ' he read. Except he knew that statement to be false. He checked the ECG once, and quickly at that, because there were (he thought) more pressing matters to attend to. Like the fact she was in danger of bleeding out. If he'd taken more time, if he'd double checked properly like he always had to, he would have seen... He didn't know, but there would have been a clue to tell him there was something brewing that would end her life.

He could feel his heart almost beating out of his chest, which had tightened so much he could barely breathe. He knew, with his office being 90% glass windows, anyone passing would see him panicking. He had to get out of there before anyone noticed. He needed to calm down, he knew this was in danger of becoming a full-blown panic attack. Dylan wished he'd gotten the blinds repaired sooner, then he could have just stayed put. His only hope now was the on-call room. He hoped it was empty.

As he tried to walk calmly through the ED, Zoe brushed her hand against his elbow to stop him as he passed her.

"Dylan, are you okay?" she said seriously. "You look like you've just run a marathon." Dylan hadn't realised quite how obviously his breathing was abnormal, and his cheeks burned. This only served to help the next lie to pass his lips.

"I – um – just had to run some bloods upstairs, there was no-one else to do it. I was in a rush," he panted, laying it on think so Zoe wouldn't suspect anything. This was a mistake: he started feeling light-headed and discretely leant against the wall. Zoe looked unconvinced by the lie.

"Don't forget you've got that meeting at half past," she reminded him. Dylan nodded, and was exceptionally relieved when Lofty stuck his head out of cubicle three and asked for some help.

The on-call room was empty, thank God. Still feeling woozy, Dylan sat leaning against the wall, with his knees drawn up to his chest and his bead between them. It felt like his whole body was collapsing inwards with the force of all the thoughts circling and tormenting him like thunder clouds. He could hear a buzz of reality from the ED. Knowing that everyone knew how to get on with their business, and no-one else struggled even to get through the day, really brought it home to him that this couldn't be normal.

Dylan couldn't stop the rush of emotion flying towards him at an unstoppable rate. It embarrassed him to do it, which only made things worse, but he couldn't stop himself crying, great sobs that shook his whole body, making his ears ring and only tightened his chest. He drew in a breath sharply when he heard someone try the door handle.

Lily had come to the on-call room because she'd left her watch on the bedside table, after the last time she'd used the room. She nearly jumped out of her skin when she realised the room was occupied. Seeing Dylan falling apart in the corner of the room felt like seeing something forbidden. She closed the door quickly behind her, knowing that he wouldn't want anyone else to know about this. She knew it was an incredibly sensitive situation and she was glad of knowing exactly how to approach it.

Dylan felt his heart speed up when Lily entered the room. On top of everything in his mind, the memory of the accident came crashing down on top of him. The choking dryness of the dust in the air, the sounds of paramedic teams failing to save lives. A young doctor in a green trauma suit being pulled from the rubble, and his mistakes that cost her her left foot. He couldn't stop the tears now flowing freely from his eyes. His shoulders heaved and his cheeks burned. How could he be letting this happen?

"I won't stay if you don't want me here," she said quietly, pulling him back from that day and back into the on-call room. "But I want to help you if I can." Dylan didn't react, which she took to mean he didn't want her to stay. She headed for the door, but then he spoke, in a kind of desperate, strangled voice which didn't seem like it could have ever come from someone like Dylan Keogh.

"Lily – stay, please."


	6. Chapter 6

Wisely, Lily locked the door before going to sit next to Dylan, a doctor many years her senior who usually kept everyone at arms' length. It was a weird feeling, knowing that he'd asked for her help, or at least stopped her leaving, and how different were they really?

"Dylan, I think you're having a panic attack," Lily said, very quietly and steadily. He nodded, trying to stop the tears falling from his eyes. "Try to concentrate on your breathing, okay? Try and breathe with me. You just need to let it run its course, but breathe with me." He gradually stopped crying, but his breathing was still erratic and uncomfortable. He rubbed at his chest, undoing two of his shirt buttons to press his hand to his skin. He could feel his heart thundering under his ribs.

Suddenly, Lily remembered something. Sliding across the floor, she went over and lifted the bottom right corner of the mattress slightly and pulled a neatly folded paper bag from the gap.

"Here," she said, unfolding the bag and offering it to him. "Breathe into it, it sort of, rebalances your oxygen and carbon dioxide levels. It's hardly the most scientific thing in the world, but I promise you as weird as it feels, it works." Dylan couldn't argue, anything to stop the pressing in his chest and the pounding in his head. Equally, he couldn't deny that it was the weirdest thing he'd ever done, sitting here on the floor of the on-call room, breathing in and out of an old prescription bag on the instruction of a junior doctor (who was arguably the driving force behind all of this.) Slowly, slowly, he felt the waves of panic ebb away. He leant his head back against the wall. Lily knew the worst of it was over now, and relaxed a little more herself, adjusting her scrubs to cross her legs more comfortably. She fidgeted with the top of her prosthetic foot for a moment. She looked at Dylan, whose eyes were now rimmed with red, a strong contrast to his pale face.

"Do you – do you want to talk about it?" Lily asked, guessing the answer that Dylan's reproachful eyes gave a second later. "Well, do you mind if I talk about it then?"

"Be my guest," Dylan said, glad of not having to talk about the mess inside his head. Whatever he'd expected Lily to start talking about, however, it wasn't this.

"I'm not going to make any assumptions about why this happened," she said slowly, picking her words carefully. "Because I know," and took a deep breath, unable to force herself to look Dylan in the eye. "I know when I get like this, it's the last thing I want people to do." Dylan looked confused. "I can't stop seeing that day," she confessed. "The parts that I was awake for, they play over in my head sometimes, and honestly, it still really scares me, even now."

"I didn't know you could remember any of it," Dylan said truthfully.

"It's only bits and pieces," Lily admitted. "And most of the time I was in the dark, so it's only the sounds. My panic attacks come at night, but they haven't for a while now. Usually it'll be the middle of a dream, then everything will go black, then – I'll hear, um, I'll hear -" And she stopped, because she felt like she was babbling, but more because she didn't want to think about the sounds that woke her up in the tight grip of a panic attack.

"It's okay," Dylan said, wishing he knew how to make her feel better He sighed. This was his chance to reach out and tell someone that he wasn't coping, that he wasn't okay. Lily would understand. "Sometime I go back to that day too, and all I can see is, well, you, being dragged from that building." He omitted the fact that he'd flashed back to there just now, and that he kept thinking about how he should have been able to save her foot.

"The sight of me would be bad enough to upset anyone," Lily joked, and even Dylan laughed a little. "The way you said 'sometimes'... That's not what happened today, is it?" Lily asked, and an embarrassed Dylan dropped his gaze.

"No, but right in the middle, when it was worst, I couldn't stop thinking about it. You'd think I was crazy if I told you what this was about."

"Try me," she said, trying her best to coax it out of him, because it wouldn't help him feel better to keep it bottled up.

"Won't they miss you out there?" Dylan said, blatantly trying to change the subject. But Lily persevered.

"I'm sure they'll be missing a consultant more," she said slyly. "We may as well keep talking, it'll help you feel better. Ethan talks surprisingly easily in the small hours if I wake up," Lily said, blushing a little. This was true, no matter how often she told him to go back to sleep, he wouldn't until she had calmed down.

"You will always be more important to me that a full night's sleep," he would say, before starting conversations about anything and everything to push the bad dream away. Ethan had never once asked why she would wake up with a start, often in tears. He had waited three weeks until she was ready to tell him, and after that he would sit and stroke her hair and remind her that he'd never let anything hurt her like that again.

"I would take a guess that you'd understand the feeling of – I don't know how to put it into words. Right now I feel like I'm doing everything wrong, missing all the clues, I just can't get anything right."

"And right now everything's mounting up and even though you're trying, you can't see out of the end of the tunnel," Lily said. Dylan nodded, pleased that she understood "Do you mind me asking what was the final straw?" Dylan thought hard to separate out the tangle of events in his mind.

"Charlotte Cross," he said thoughtfully.

"From that RTC?"

"Hmm," Dylan replied. "I should have been able to save her, I missed something, I must have done."

"Dylan, we've all lost patients and thought there was more we should have done, it's only normal."

"I – she just – I think it hit me so hard because, no, you will think I've lost it." He couldn't tell her.

"Look, I know I haven't been a doctor for as long as you, but I would say I'm pretty unshockable by now."

"No, I shouldn't, it's confidentiality or something like that," he lied. He couldn't tell Lily that Charlotte Cross looked like her, and that's why he couldn't treat her properly. "Her parents are coming in today, and I can't talk to them, I can't look at them and tell them I did everything to save their daughter." He looked at his watch (with its fresh battery.) Twenty five past eleven. Damn. They would already be here, and waiting for him with his luck.

"Who else was there?" Lily asked. "There must have been another doctor present."

"Zoe, but -"

"Right, that's one problem solved already. Is there anything else we cans solve now?" she said, trying to deal with things systematically and calmly. Dylan remembered his post-mortem statement next to him on the floor, the let hand side of it crumpled from the way he'd held it.

"Connie wanted this on her desk at eleven o'clock," he said guiltily.

"I'll take it, don't worry." Lily was doing an excellent job of diffusing the situation, but she knew Dylan wouldn't like this next bit.

"Dylan, you need to go home. You look totally wiped and and trust me, I know your head isn't in the right place to be out there, saving lives like you do."

"Flattery will get you nowhere Lily."

"Perhaps not, but I'm still calling you a taxi," she said. "I don't think you should drive yourself."

"No, I'm 100% sure I can drive. I need to pick up Dervla in any case – my dog," he said, clocking the look of confusion on her face. "I'm really grateful for this Lily, thank you. I don't know what I would have done without you here." Lily flushed crimson; she was no good at taking complements.

"You're welcome," she said. "And I'll always listen if you want to talk. I know you've got Zoe, but... if you want to talk about other stuff then I'm here." She paused. "And I'm very sure you did everything in your power to keep Charlotte Cross alive."

They sat for a moment, then Lily blushed again, hardly having recovered from the last one.

"I'm sorry, but could you possibly help me up? I sort of sat down here without thinking, and I'm not exactly adept at getting up from the floor on this foot yet..." Dylan stood up, offered his hand to Lily and pulled her to a standing position with an ease which took her by surprise. She nodded shyly by way of thanks.

She walked back through the ED alone, heading straight for Connie's office. Ethan took her hand as she passed him, to stop her.

"I was about to send out a search party for you, where have you been?"

"Later, okay?" She kissed his jaw and rested her head on his collarbone, the soft fabric of his scrubs a comfortably familiarity on her cheek. He put an arm around her and kissed the top of her head lightly.

"Love you," he whispered.

Lily was very glad that Connie's office was empty and locked: it meant that she could leave Dylan's statement in the security box by the door. Connie would think that Dylan left it there himself and with any luck, she wouldn't ask any questions. Next on Lily's agenda was Zoe, who almost certainly would.

Lily heard her sunny laugh before she saw the consultant treating a patient in cubicles.

"Dr Hanna? When you've got a moment, I need a word." Zoe nodded in agreement and Lily waited patiently outside. Lofty led the patient out a few minutes later, and Zoe called her into the cubicle.

"Are you okay Lily?" she asked.

"I'm just fine. I may as well get straight to it. Dr Keogh needs you to talk to Charlotte Cross' parents." Lily stopped there, hoping Zoe would accept her word. She tried very hard not to let her shoulders sag when she asked why he couldn't do it himself. "he's gone home -"

"Home? Tell me you're joking."

"I'm sorry Dr Hanna." Lily bit her lip. "I think you need to call him as soon as you can. I'm not going to go into specifics here because I'm sure he wouldn't want me to." Zoe couldn't argue with Lily's decision; she appreciated the junior doctor's respect for Dylan in any case.

After the shift, Zoe tried to call Dylan four times, and four times the call was rejected after two or three rings. Although she knew that he sometimes rejected her calls to be difficult, something in the pit of her stomach was very uneasy about the way he'd left mid-shift. She called one last time, knowing that something had to be very wrong.

Dylan sat on his boat with a book open on his lap, trying to calm his racing thoughts without success. Dervla at his feet, flinched when his phone started to buzz again. Dylan pressed 'reject call' for the fifth time.


	7. Chapter 7

**Thank you for all the reviews so far, especially all the really lovely ones about the last two chapters! I hope you like this one, it's more focused on Lily and Ethan, but all will become apparent as to why, later in the story :)**

Ethan wondered at first what had woken him up on Thursday morning. He glanced at his alarm clock. 3.17am. The house was quiet... Then he heard it. He got out of bed and slipped silently into the next room. Lily was still asleep, but only just, thrashing about in the clutches of a nightmare, getting tangled in her duvet, which was only making matters worse. Ethan switched on the gentle bedside lamp.

"Lily, wake up," he said, sitting on the edge of the bed. "I'm here, it;s okay. It's only a dream, I promise it's not real." Slowly she stopped thrashing and began to wake up, blinking in the light.

"I'm sorry, I didn't mean to wake you," she said groggily as she pushed herself up to sitting, which was considerably harder without her prosthetic foot on.

"I don't mind, you know I don't," Ethan said, pulling her into a hug which she gratefully accepted. They didn't speak for a while – they didn't need to: Lily rested her head on Ethan;s chest, listening to the steady beating of his heart and trying to match her breathing to his. It was her favourite way of calming down, and it seemed to work. Forcing herself to concentrate on two sets of breathing didn't leave too much room for the nightmare to push its dark tendrils back around the edges of her mind. She could have stayed there forever, wrapped up in the warmth of his arms, with her crochet quilt pulled up around them. The house was silent once more, the only sound in Lily's ears was Ethan's heartbeat. She began to drift off, but the distant echo of an ambulance siren woke her up with a shock. She sat bolt upright.

"Hey, it's okay," Ethan said gently. "I'm here, nothing is going to hurt you." Lily relaxed a little, settling back into his arms and trying to match their breathing again. Ethan held her to him a little more tightly, so she could feel his arms wrapped around her. This was why she loved him. He made her feel safe and nothing compared to the feeling he gave her at times like this. He kissed the top of her head.

"You can go back to bed now," she whispered after a while. "I'll be okay."

"Are you sure? You don't want to talk tonight?" Ethan looked into Lily's eyes. They were tinged with uncertainty.

"No, I'm okay, I'm sure," Lily replied, not meeting his gaze. Of course she'd rather sit and talk, but it wasn't fair for her to deprive Ethan of his sleep too, it was bad enough that she probably wouldn't sleep any more tonight herself.

"Lily?" he sounded as though he didn't believe a word of it.

"No, go back to bed, you'll be a mess tomorrow."

"You mean later, it's already quarter to four," he smiled, stroking her tousled hair back into place.

"Whatever," Lily said, sighing.

"You should try and get some sleep too," Ethan said, although he knew it was unlikely. Lily nodded, kissing his dry, almost chapped lips lovingly.

"There's Vaseline in the bathroom," she commented.

"And it will still be there when I get up for work later. Try and get some sleep, okay?"

Lily knew she couldn't sleep, so she didn't try. She put in her earbuds and selected a playlist of classical music to block out Ethan's falling asleep noises. That was the downside of moving upstairs into the spare bedroom. Lily pulled a book from the bookcase beside the bed, being careful to remain silent and not caring which book she selected. She'd read them all before anyway – she'd had to fill her long hours at home after her accident with something. She needed a trip to the library, that was certain but when she'd fit it in was beyond her. Lily scribbled a note in the pad on the bedside table: LIBRARY THIS WEEKEND.

When the sun began to peek over the horizon just after half past six, casting a long, dazzling shaft of light over Holby, Lily put her book down. The copy of _To Kill a Mockingbird_ Ethan had given her, two birthdays ago when they were barely a couple, had served her well. She must have read it cover to cover four or five times now, and she knew the characters inside out, enough to see the warmth in the all from their first mention. Starting reading the first page felt like, for want of a better cliché, going home to people she knew.

She carefully applied make-up in the bathroom, to conceal the light shadows under her eyes, before heading downstairs. Trying to be as quiet as possible, so as to not wake Ethan, she concentrated hard on pouring her cereal carefully into the bowl without making a mess. Lily flinched as the cornflakes clicked loudly and rattled around the bowl. She turned around and jumped to see Ethan leaning on the door frame.

"I'm sorry, I didn't mean to wake you up," she said apologetically.

"You didn't don't worry." Ethan walked across the kitchen, collecting the milk from the fridge for her on his way. He kissed her forehead but narrowed his eyebrows, scrutinising every inch of her face as he pulled away. "Your make-up isn't fooling me, Lily. You haven't slept at all, have you?" He wasn't angry, or accusing, more sympathetic.

"No," she admitted. She couldn't lie to Ethan, clearly he'd be able to see right through it anyway.

"Right, back to bed," Ethan said firmly. "You're not good to anyone on four hours' sleep."

"But I'm not tired," she protested, almost truthfully. She felt as alert as always, at least that's what she kept telling herself.

"Stop kidding yourself." Ethan said, irritation becoming evident in his voice. He set the milk down on the counter rather harder than necessary. "Your cardigan isn't buttoned up properly," he said bitterly. Lily remedied this quickly, a blush rising from her collar and blooming across her cheeks.

They ate breakfast in stony silence, a first for them. It seemed neither was willing to back down, but when Lily stood up to clear her bowl away, Ethan tried to reason with her, although her sounded no less annoyed.

"Lily, I'm serious. I don't think you're fit to go to work," he began, before Lily interrupted.

"Ethan, drop it will you!" she snapped. "I am twenty eight years old, I think I'm old enough to make my own decisions, and definitely old enough to have those decisions respected! So would you mind terribly letting me get on with my day?" Ethan knew he'd won the argument – at the very lest he knew he was right. Lily was like a child sometimes, if only in the way that her temper was twenty miles shorter when she was tired. He hated himself for thinking so poorly of her, but she wasn't helping herself this morning, not at all. Ethan got up from the table and put another slice of bread in the toaster to break the silence. Lily retreated to the bathroom, believing she'd won as much as Ethan thought he was the victor. Applying a fresh layer of concealer, it took a few minutes for her to realise she'd just cried away the first layer. They'd never argued before. They'd disagreed, obviously, it was only human, but never to the point that warranted a real argument. And it felt awful.

Sitting in the car on the way to work, Lily's stomach was tied in knots as they maintained their silence. Ethan sat tensely behind the wheel. He wasn't angry, that much he knew, just... disappointed. Inwardly he was amused by this thought. His biology teacher in Year Thirteen had once said that, "I'm not angry, just disappointed," when Ethan had spectacularly failed an essay. Now, Ethan was disappointed in himself, because he shouldn't be driving Lily to work. She was too tired to be doing any kind of work in an Emergency Department. He tried once more to make her see sense.

"What if you make a mistake?"

"Hmm?" Lily hadn't been listening, she was thinking about how many cups of coffee would be too many, before someone would notice she was obviously trying to stay alert.

"I said, what if you make a mistake?" Ethan repeated, turning the radio down thinking that was why Lily hadn't heard him. "At work, I mean. I know you insist you aren't tired, but on some level we both know that isn't true. What happens if you make a mistake because you're not thinking straight, where do we go from there? I couldn't live with myself, knowing I'd taken you to work and allowed that to happen."

Lily sighed. "It's not going to happen, so stop over-analysing it Ethan. I'm fit to be in work and that's the last I'm going to say on the matter," she said coldly.

They entered the ED separately for their shift at 9am, which surprised everyone – they'd come in together, often hand in hand or holding half a croissant each, for a long time now. Even Dylan, as emotionally unobservant as he was, could see something different in Lily when she came into the staffroom alone, and dropped her bag with a frustrated sigh.

"I'm no great genius with these things, but you sound like you need a cup of tea," he said, getting a second mug from the cupboard above the kettle, which had just boiled. Lily knew he'd instantly smell a rat if she asked for coffee, so she accepted the tea gratefully. Dylan, leaning on the counter, looked intently at Lily as she picked up her mug and took a sip.

'You look tired," he said, ever the king of stating the blindingly obvious. Lily couldn't lie to him any more than she could Ethan, it wouldn't be fair to him considering their recent conversation.

"I think I jinxed it, when I said the other day that nothing had happened for a while," she said, unable to look him in the eye, her shyness making an unwanted appearance once more. Lily knew it was right to tell him, but that didn't stop it being a risk all the same. She knew she could trust him not to go straight to Connie (at least she thought she could) but he was still a consultant, therefore very much above an F2 in terms of hospital hierarchy. So he was very much in a position of authority to tell her to go home if he wanted to.

Dylan thought he should probably offer Lily some moral support, she'd done more than he'd ever expect of anyone, the day he'd broken down in the on-call room. Of course, there was always the barrier of his general social ineptitude, which he hated every single day. He didn't have a clue where to start. He cleared his throat awkwardly.

"Are you... Are you okay?"

"If you're going to ask whether I should be here, don't please. I've already had it from Ethan about four times this morning," Lily said, immediately feeling guilty about her tone of voice.

"Maybe he's got a point," Dylan said, his voice gentle and almost unrecognisable from his usual gruff, sarcastic tone. "What happened?"

"Same old. I was asleep, I had a nightmare, I was awake. I was almost asleep, then there was a siren, and I knew I couldn't fall asleep again." She was just giving him the bare bones, she didn't think she could bear to sift through the crash-site of thoughts in her mind, over half of which involved Ethan.

"What time was this?" Dylan looked at Lily's eyes closely, seeing the light shadows that make-up just couldn't conceal. Lily looked back into his eyes – he was one of those people with a very holding gaze – and couldn't bring herself to do anything but tell the truth.

"About three o'clock this morning. I'm on four hours' sleep, before you ask," she said, sounding defeated.

"I'm not going to berate you, if that's what you thought my reaction would be," Dylan said. "I've come in on less than that before now." He looked out of the door, checking. "I'm not going to tell Connie either, I'll guess that's what worries you most." Lily smiled, loving that Dylan just understood.

Dylan made himself a promise to keep half an eye on Lily during the shift. She didn't need someone watching her constantly, and wouldn't want it either. But although he'd admitted to coming into work on so little sleep, he hadn't confessed to those being the most difficult days of his career.

A few hours later there was still a decidedly frosty atmosphere between Lily and Ethan, which made it difficult to organise the department and unpleasant for anyone working anywhere near them.

"Look, will you two just sort out whatever this, this _thing_ , is between you? You're making life hell for the rest of us," Dylan snapped when he couldn't stand the tension any longer.

"We wouldn't have anything to sort, if Lily had stayed at home this morning, when she;s clearly exhausted after four hours' sleep!" Ethan said loudly, putting down a tray of instruments so hard it was lucky the contents didn't spill onto the floor. The three doctors had been clearing a bay in resus, and the other staff members all stopped in silence as Ethan lost his temper, just as Connie entered the room. Lily noticed first: she heard the click of expensive heels. She pressed her lips together very tightly, knowing that to cry would expose it all. It was no good.

"I'll see you later then," she said pointedly, her voice clearly cracking with emotion, and left resus. Once her back was to Connie she could let her guard down, allowing tears to spills from her eyes and flow in two streams down her face.


	8. Chapter 8

**I hope you enjoy this chapter - how annoyed was everyone that this site was down all day yesterday? I was like a starfish missing a leg without my daily dose of Casualty fanfiction!**

 **On another note, to anyone waiting for AS or A level results, I wish you all the very best tomorrow. I'm terrified, but "Be brave. Even if you're not, pretend to be, because no-one will be able to tell the difference." (I have a thing for quotes, and this one seemed very fitting!)**

Dylan was as surprised as anyone to find himself springing to Lily's defence in front of her boyfriend and the Clinical Lead.

"She's – uh – had a difficult shift," he said to Connie, who nodded and headed in the direction Lily had just taken. He rounded on Ethan. "On which planet, exactly, does _that_ constitute 'sorting it out'?" The registrar looked at his shoes.

"I shouldn't have said that to her," he said, sounding empty and hurt.

"Finally you got something right," Dylan replied sarcastically. "You, of all people, should know what she's going through. Be nice!"

Connie scanned the department, sounding stressed as she brushed people off in her search for Lily. She reached her office without success, then glanced through the window out of habit. She was relieved to see Zoe sitting on the sofa with an arm around Lily, whose shoulders were heaving with every sob. Connie made eye contact with Zoe, who held up her hand to stop the Clinical Lead coming in. Connie nodded: she knew Zoe would be far more likely to tease out the full story.

As Lily calmed down, she told Zoe about everything. To properly explain it she had to tell her about the nightmares, the panic attacks, the flashbacks. Her cheeks burned but Zoe let her talk freely, knowing it was important to gain Lily's trust and not interrupt.

"We've never argued like that," she whispered. "And I've never felt so embarrassed and completely inadequate."

"Let me tell you now," Zoe said, hugging Lily to her closely. "There's not a person in this department who agrees with that judgement of you, or would want you to feel that way." She paused. "And I'm sure Ethan didn't want this to happen either. He cares a lot about you, but I'm sure you knew that. The pair of you are more than a little tired and even I know you both well enough to know that's going to make you a little tetchy. If you're adamant that you're alert enough to be out there, I have to accept your judgement. But listen to us Lily. If anyone out there thinks you shouldn't be here, please take their advice." She tapped the heels of her shoes on the tiled floor before standing up. "I think we should let she-who-breathes-fire have her office back now," she said, smiling and giving Lily's shoulder a reassuring squeeze

"Yes," Lily said, giggling a little. "Thank you Zoe, I'll try to be less of a mess tomorrow!"

"I'm sure you'll be back to normal once you've slept a bit."

Dylan almost did a double take when Lily walked calmly into resus an hour later, looking as if nothing had happened. _She should have gone home_ , he thought. But nonetheless she was doing a good job of pretending today was a normal day.

Their patient was in a bad way. A boy of eight, he'd fallen from a tree in his back garden and his resp rate was falling rapidly.

"His airway is compromised Dr Keogh," Lily said after checking again. "We need to intubate now if we're going to have any chance of saving him." Dylan nodded for her to carry out the procedure. She was only half way done when the boy's heart stopped.

"You've got about four second before I have to start CPR. Go." Dylan's voice was cool and authoritative. He felt in control. Lily pulled the tube out from the boy's throat, shaking her head.

"I can't do it, I can't do it!" she said, panicking. Rita did a round of chest compressions before Dylan tried to intubate, with an equal lack of success.

"Lily, it isn't you, it's not possible -" he said, trying to let her down gently, but she had already started a round of compressions herself. The team couldn't see any changes.

"Do we call it?" Rita asked, standing on Dylan's left hand side.

"NO!" Lily cried. "He's only eight years old!" She started another round of CPR, counting the compressions frantically. Rita bit her lip, uncomfortable that she was seeing Lily losing control. Dylan looked at her meaningfully.

"Lily, come on lovely, we have to stop now," she said, putting her hands on the junior doctor's shoulders. Reluctantly, Lily stepped back. The monitor beside the bed let out one continuous bleep. Dylan switched it off. The expression on Lily's face burnt his insides as he spoke.

"Time of death, 14.23." He dropped his professional tone. "Lily, are you okay?" he asked, concerned. But Lily's face had changed to one of unwavering resolve.

"Absolutely." She tried to forget the fact that she had undoubtedly lost control in resus, something she had once promised herself never to do. "We've got a job to do, have we not?" They finished their work in silence. Rita excused herself to speak to the boy's parents and Dylan told Lily he was perfectly capable of finishing here by himself.

"You need to take a minute, go and get a drink in the staffroom and I'll be there as soon as I can, okay?" He was pleasantly surprised when Lily did so, without protesting.

Almost at the staffroom, Lily was aware of familiar footfalls behind her. Without turning around, she held the door open for him and he followed her in. she turned to face Ethan, emptying her mind of all the vile memories of the morning (or trying to.) He spoke first.

"I'm so sorry," he began simply. Lily mentally bit her tongue to stop herself saying _Is that all ?_

Out loud, she said, "Thank you."

"Let me finish. I'm sorry for not trusting you, I'm sorry for not respecting your choice, but mostly I want to apologise for embarrassing you in front of Dylan and Connie.

"Zoe told you about that?" Lily said, wishing she'd said nothing to the consultant.

"What? What's Zoe got to do with this? I haven't seen her," Ethan said, sounding confused.

"Doesn't matter," Lily said. "Go on."

"Okay. I could just see it in your eyes, and I knew because you pulled your sleeves over your hands, and..." His eyes drifted down to Lily's hands. The cuffs of the white t-shirt she wore under her scrubs were pulled and twisted into her palms. She released them at once, spreading her fingers before relaxing her hands again. Ethan took her hands in his. "And I felt terrible because no-one has the right to make you feel like that, least of all me. I promise to do my utmost not to be like that again."

"I'm not innocent in this either," Lily said as she squeezed his hands a little. "I said things I regret too, and I'm sorry for acting like a petulant teenager and not accepting that you were probably right."

"I forgive you, I promise. Here, I got you this – I know it's small and pathetic, but I didn't have much change on me." He slipped a chocolate bar from the pocket of his scrubs into Lily's hand, she smiled, pocketing it. She put one hand on his cheek, her other hand rested on his waist. She leant in slowly and pressed her lips to his. He kissed her back and they stood, frozen in time, before the sound of the door caused them to jump apart like they'd been burned.

"I should be going, I've got notes and paperwork and..." he babbled.

"See you later," Lily said, pushing back a blush when she realised it was Dylan who'd come in.

"We've been here before, but this time you're going to take my advice, okay Lily?" Dylan said, picking up the phone from the wall. "I'm calling you a taxi, you need to go home." He was pleased to see Lily nod, finally admitting that she'd been wrong all along to battle on with the day. He watched her take the chocolate bar from her pocket and turn it over in her fingers.

"What's that, a peace offering?" he asked, raising one eyebrow.

"Something like that," Lily said wearily, a tired smile spreading across her face. She unwrapped the bar and broke it in two, more or less equally. Dylan was stunned when she held out half to him. He sat next to her on the sofa and took it. She tapped the top of her half against his, as you would with champagne flutes.

"Here's to a good rest of shift for you," she said, really meaning it.

"And here's to a better day tomorrow for you."


	9. Chapter 9

**I hope you like this chapter :) It's the last of my prewritten ones, and the next one is taking a long time, so I'm not sure when I'll be uploading it. Hopefully tomorrow but I'm not 100% certain on that front! Hopefully results day went fine for any of you who were waiting for results, it could have gone better for me, but I'd be lying if I said I wasn't at least a little bit proud :)**

"Time of death, 7.48."

"Time of death, 10.04"

Dylan hadn't called either of those, but he'd been the second consultant on both cases. It was never a pleasant task, having to inform a family that the medical team entrusted to their loved one had failed. It certainly wasn't why he'd become a doctor – he'd never been a good carrier of bad news. He'd joined the profession to save lives, not to be a part of life's end. Lily had summed it up fairly adequately after the second loss of the day, when she'd asked, an audible crack in her voice, "Does it ever get easier?"

"No, but we become more skilled at remembering we were not the cause of death." He'd said that to reassure her, but he needed to hear it himself at the moment as well. He was glad to swap out of resus with Connie, who looked like she'd had far too easy a morning. She was wearing an elegant white blouse; Dylan had to bit the insides of his cheeks to suppress a laugh when the next patient into resus turned out to be a tree surgeon who'd had a nasty run-in with his chainsaw and was making an impressive bloody mess wherever he went.

In cubicles, he was trying to treat a little girls who had a gash on her head which was quite spectacular considering her five years. She babbled non-stop about her school, and although he did his best to tune her out (his hands were shaking again, and the distracting wouldn't help) he caught a few words and couldn't help himself smiling a little.

"...And I want to be a doctor," she said, sounding almost excited to be in his presence. Her mum looked a little put out, that her daughter had refused to sit on her lap, instead resolutely sitting on the bed alone to get a better view of everything.

"Come on Paige, stop chattering and let the doctor do his work, I'm sure he doesn't want to listen to you jabbering away!" her mum said anxiously, watching Dylan dab a swab soaked in antibacterial solution through her daughter's hair. Taking something of a shine to Paige and her medical aspirations, he thought he must be going soft or something, to be actively so much more careful with the antiseptic.

"No, it's okay," he said to Paige's mother. _Dylan, what are you doing, this is way beyond uncharted territory_ , he thought as he struck up an conversation with Paige.

"It's – um – a lot of work to be a doctor," he said, not sure how much to talk down to her.

"I can do lots of work. I can read _The Gruffalo_ all by myself now," she said proudly. Dylan couldn't even try to fight off the smile crossing his face. He inspected her head wound more closely. It would be too deep for steri-strips, he was sure. The bleeding had mostly subsided now, leaving a sticky, matted mess in Paige's blonde hair.

"I think I'll have to use proper sutures – that means stitches," he said, finding himself automatically translating for Paige. "The cut is too deep for butterfly stitches." He crouched down to Paige's eye level. "That means I'll have to do an injection in your head, to stop it hurting, then I'll sew up the cut, okay? Do you – um – do you want Mum to come and sit with you while I do that?" he said, surprising himself with his gentle tone.

"No, I'm just fine here, it won't hurt more than falling off my bike, will it?"

"No," Dylan said, astounded by Paige's mature attitude. He became more aware of his shaking hands at that moment, and that's when he realised he couldn't do this. It would make him look bad as a professional, but that wasn't what bothered him most. It would put his patient at higher risk, and it would almost certainly hurt Paige more than necessary.

"I'm so sorry," he began, not wanting to finish the sentence. "Just... just excuse me a moment please."

As he saw it, his only option was Lily, because Zoe would ask questions he didn't have time to answer and didn't want to answer either. Leaving the cubicle, he heard Paige's mother say something that fell like a lead weight, twisting his stomach painfully.

"I'm sure you'll be a good doctor Paige, because doctors are very brave."

Dylan pulled the curtain closed behind him, feeling his breathing begin to speed up. _Not now, not now!_ Lily was filling a plastic cup with water, just outside cubicles. Dylan sighed with relief and rushed over.

"Lily," he said breathlessly. "I – um – there's -" he stammered. Lily pulled him aside, down a corridor so they were out of earshot.

"What is it? Wait, on a scale of one to ten, how bad are we talking here? Don't start trying to be brave," she said firmly. Dylan sighed, collecting his thoughts. _That_ daywas an eight, no, pushing a nine actually.

"This is... it's – um – I can't. Seven," he said finally. Lily made an effort not to furrow her eyebrows as she thought.

"It's okay, breathe, and we can sort this out."

"No, no time. There's a very sweet girl in cubicle 6, she needs sutures to a scalp laceration but I can't do it. Can you please, just cover for me this once?" Lily nodded and followed him back to the cubicle.

She was surprised by his tone as he spoke, perhaps his seven had dissolved into a five as they'd talked.

"Mrs Reading, I'm very sorry but I've been called into an urgent meeting," he said breezily. He crouched by the bed at Paige's eye level, something Lily had never seen him do before. "Lily, this is Paige, and she's very important because she wants to be a doctor like us. Paige, this is Lily, she's very kind and she's going to stitch the cut on your head. It was very nice to meet you, but hopefully we won't have need to meet again, hey?"

Dylan rushed back to his office. He sat at his desk, holding the edge of the chair tightly. "Doctors are very brave." The words seemed to circle in his mind. _But I'm not brave_ , he thought. _I want to be brave_. He felt his panic slowly sliding down the scale. 5... 4... 3... 2... 1. He answered the phone calmly. He cleared a folder of unnecessary papers. To anyone passing, the scene in the office looked completely normal. He tried hard to ignore the part of his mind telling him that this wasn't normal, normal doctors, _brave_ doctors didn't fall to pieces over patients and let it get the better of them, days and weeks later. Then he had to remind himself, normal doctors didn't hold onto the thought that they weren't good enough to hold the position they had.

Normal doctors did not flash back to their greatest mistakes.

Back out in the ED, Zoe had noticed something amiss. In Dylan's handwriting, on a set of patient notes... No, it couldn't be. He'd never make a mistake like that, it was so blindingly obvious. Dylan didn't make mistakes. She made sure the nursing staff were aware of a change to the notes, and set off to find him, not sure of how to confront him over it. Any kind of confrontation would be unwise, but she had a duty, as his friend, to make him aware of his mistake. Didn't she?

Dylan was finally feeling okay and had left the safe haven of his office to try and pretend he was having a normal day. He quickly took a set of notes from Connie and began treating a patient in triage with a deep burn from hot water. He cleaned the wound and was about to turn and put down his tweezers, when –

"Dylan, when you've got a minute, can I -" Zoe opened the curtain and made Dylan jump so much that he knocked the tray of sterile instruments to the ground with an uncomfortably public crash. Dylan gritted his teeth to stop himself swearing. He turned to his patient.

"I – I – will you just excuse me a minute," he said, apparently with some difficulty not to lose his temper. He left the bay and pulled the curtain shut behind him.

"Please tell me there's a decent reason for me making a complete tit of myself. Again," he said, trying to steady his voice.

"I'm sorry Dylan, I didn't mean for that to happen. I had to come and show you this, and it had to be now." She opened the patient folder and found the page, then turned it round in her hands to face him. She watched his eyes skim the page. They started again from the top, slower this time. He read the same sentence four times. He ran a hand through his hair, flipping back a page and scanning it for information. He put the hand over his mouth, then rubbed the back of his neck.

"I don't understand, I would have read... Oh my God, I didn't read it. What kind of terrible doctor am I?"

3, 4, 5, 6 maybe.

"What happened? Please, please tell me that drug was not administered."

"It would have been, if I hadn't checked at the last minute." Dylan's sigh was so sincere she could feel the relief in it. "I think it would be better if it gets changed in your handwriting." He did it, scoring through his mistake more times than necessary. Zoe led him away from the cubicle, towards her office. He knew what she was going to say before her lips parted.

"You remember what I said, don't you? I can't keep this to myself Dylan, you know I can't. It's affecting your work, I have to tell Connie. You put a patient's life in danger, and I know that's just not you. Everyone knows that you wouldn't make a mistake like that."

"Okay. Can you do one thing for me though? Wait until after the shift, please? I don't want to mess up the department more than I already am." He wrung his hands anxiously.

"You're not, okay? Don't think like that, just wait and see what comes of it. I know that's not what you need to hear right now, but don't over-think it." She knew her attempt to put him at ease was in vain. _Don't over-think it_ , he thought, _That's like telling Charlie's son never to think about heroin again_.

Trying to keep his head above water, Dylan returned to his office, remembering the stack of papers for Connie which he still hadn't done anything with. He bit his lip, drew himself up to his full height, so at least he looked like the confident Dr Keogh he should have been. He picked up the ream of papers and left the room. Crossing reception, he wasn't looking where he was going and collided with Lily as she turned sharply to avoid a 'wet floor' sign propped in her path. His papers went everywhere, at least a hundred assorted sheets and notes snowing down around them. His immediate response was to check on Lily.

"That wasn't your fault," he said quickly, as they both knelt down to start picking up the papers.

"Well, it sort of was," she replied, blushing lightly. They were both silent for a minute, collecting sheets, then Dylan leant over towards Lily.

"An okay day?" he asked.

"I've had much worse. You?" she checked.

"I think this is pretty bad," he admitted, leaning back and standing up to go and collect more papers.

"Dylan?" she said. "Give me a number." He knew immediately what she meant, and was glad of her finding such a discrete method of checking up on things.

"Seven. Eight maybe, but I don't think a ten is so far away if I'm honest. He was being truthful – his stomach was in knots and he'd given up now on trying to look calm. He didn't have to look in a mirror to know his eyebrows were furrowed in a permanent frown.

With all the paper collected, Lily handed Dylan her pile.

"If you think you shouldn't be here, listen to yourself," she said.

"I need to be here," he said, as Lily turned to leave. "Wait, Lily. How do you -" he sighed, checking there was no-one close enough to hear clearly. "What do you do when your bad days outnumber the good?"

"I find someone who will listen and just talk," she said, without skipping a beat. "Do you want to get coffee after the shift?"

"No. Yes. Tomorrow, that would be okay. Thank you."

He had almost reached Connie's office when Rita's voice called out to stop him.

"Dylan, wait, you missed a few of those papers in reception," she said, breathing as though she'd run to catch up with him.

"Rita, you're a complete godsend. Although all your hard work putting them into date order has gone to waste I'm afraid. Sorry about that."

"It's okay, it was an hour I won't get back, but I sort of enjoyed it. It was nice to spend time with you, not over a patient." She blushed a little and smiled as she handed him the papers. Dylan couldn't help himself noticing the delicate oval shapes of her fingernails. The harsh hospital lights glinted off the clear polish she wore. Their hands touched as he took the sheets; her hands were warm and he felt as if a current was flowing between their fingers – _Oh come on, Dylan, that is a truly pathetic cliché_ , he thought.

All the same, he couldn't shake the image of her blushing half smile. And he wasn't sure he wanted to.


	10. Chapter 10

**This is a shorter chapter than usual, and it doesn't flow as nicely as I would have liked it to, sorry! I hope you enjoy it nonetheless, please leave a review and let me know what you think x**

Knowing she was in an important meeting, Zoe pushed a note under the door to Connie's office, ignoring the security box because she knew Connie wouldn't check it straight away. At the end of the shift she returned, and was pleased to see Connie sitting behind her desk, looking like she was waiting for something. Zoe was holding two cups, a latte for Connie and a hot chocolate for herself. She set down Connie's cup on the desk, ensured the door was closed, and sat down, taking a long drink of her hot chocolate and steeling herself for this conversation.

"I think we need to talk about Dylan," Zoe said, almost but not quite nervous.

"Again?"

"Again, because last time you pretty much told me to stop interfering and leave him to it." Zoe tried but failed to hide the irritation in her voice.

"My opinion still stands," Connie replied firmly. "As his colleague you should be letting him sort out his own problems."

"But that's where you're wrong," Zoe said. "I haven't come to you as his interfering colleague, I'm here as his best friend and something has got to give." She wanted Connie to understand, to see how much of mess Dylan was in. But most of all she wanted her to offer him some support instead of pushing her away as an overly-concerned colleague.

"I'm listening," Connie said, leaning forwards and taking a drink of her coffee. "What's happening, I'd be a liar if I said I though he was on top form at the moment."

"You don't know how glad I am to hear you say that."

"He's in bits, Connie, and I don't know why or what to do about it. I wouldn't have come to you if it wasn't serious," she said, somewhere between exasperated and upset.

"I know you wouldn't Zoe," Connie said, ever the voice of calm and reason in the department.

"I don't know what's wrong with him, he hasn't said anything more since he told me he was too stressed to function, but that was ages ago and there's got to be more to it than that. I've never seen him have problems at work before. He fell apart in resus after that RTC, he went home early rather than speak to her parents. I know for a fact that he's had Lily take over from him on several occasions now, and it's not like him at all. Connie, he's missed vital information in patient notes. If I hadn't been there, picking up the pieces..." she tailed off, running a hand through her hair. Zoe poured out her worries while Connie sat, deep in thought. The Clinical Lead twisted a strand of her dark brown hair between her fingers.

"Does Lily know anything then? You said he;s handed over to her a lot, do you think he would have explained himself to her at all?"

Zoe looked up from her hot chocolate, a slight line of cream on her top lip, which she wiped with the back of her hand self-consciously.

"Hmm?"

"Is there any possibility that Lily knows what's going on?"

"Connie, I've known Dylan for years, he trusts me and I trust him." It was true, the relationship they shared was special – no-one, not even Max, knew about her infertility. Except Dylan. Granted, he had teased it out of her over about four hours, when she'd been torturing herself over whether it was right to get back together with Max. But she knew him so well, and he'd never used it to his advantage, knowing her closest guarded secret.

"I hardly think he'd go to one of our F2's, lovely as Lily is, instead of coming to me!" Zoe said, although even now a memory was surfacing that contradicted what she'd just said.

"I think you're doing Lily a great disservice, Zoe. If we're taking this as an issue of his mental health -" Connie began calmly, interrupted by a gasp of shock from Zoe. The consultant rubbed her eyes furiously.

"Sorry, go on, I'm okay. It's just... I knew all along that's where this was going, but he's my friend. It's still a shock to have it laid out in front of me," Zoe said.

"It's okay, Zoe," Connie said gently, getting up from the desk to sit on the sofa with Zoe. She extended a hand to her, which Zoe took, surprised that Connie was being so unusually kind. "If this is to do with his mental health, then it's highly likely that Lily _does_ know something. Yes, she's been working closely with him, so would see any changes in him professionally, but there's probably more to it. If he's confided in her, even once, he's most likely gone back to her, because he wouldn't have to explain the back-story to her. Does that make sense?" Zoe nodded, knowing it wouldn't help anyone to feel hurt by Dylan's choice. She pushed the thoughts form her mind.

That memory was still badgering her. It made sense now she'd had a little time to turn it over in her mind.

"Wait, I think Lily might know. I don't know how much, potentially all of it if we take into account what you just said." She could remember it clearly now, and described it in detail to Connie.

It was the day Charlotte Cross' parents had come in to speak to Dylan. Zoe had spoken to him that morning – he'd looked terrible but said he'd had to rush some bloods upstairs and there hadn't been any porters to do it. This had made no sense to her, she'd spoken to Max about a minute before seeing Dylan. She had reminded him about the meeting, but he'd set off in a rush, in the opposite direction to reception.

"He had some papers with him, I didn't have a clue what they were for."

"Charlotte Cross' post-mortem," Connie explained. "It was his statement, he's promised it to me by eleven o'clock that morning. I'm certain I left the office just after eleven, and I hadn't seen him. They were there when I returned at quarter to twelve."

"That would make sense," Zoe said, her thoughts all clicking into place. "I saw Lily at half past eleven. She told me Dylan had gone home, and I'd have to conduct the meeting with the Crosses."

"Gone home? And no-one thought to tell me?" Connie said, projecting frustration to mask her disappointment in herself. How had she not noticed they were missing a consultant for over half a shift?

"I never thought to sorry. But I knew Lily wouldn't, because she refused to tell me what was wrong with Dylan. She said he wouldn't have wanted her to spread it around." Zoe still couldn't believe that she had given up after five rejected calls.

"How exactly does this link to Dylan's paperwork?" Connie asked.

"She was holding it. There's no mistaking his handwriting. She must have taken it to your office on his behalf." The clues were slotting together like a jigsaw puzzle, and looked increasingly likely that Lily held the missing pieces.

"We need to get Lily in here, first thing tomorrow," Connie said, draining her coffee cup. "But I think, whatever our solution, we're going to come up against some serious resistance from Dylan."

"He won't like it, but we have to draw the line somewhere." Zoe thought for a moment, then told Connie that Dylan knew she was speaking the her tonight.

"Well that something, I suppose."

"What worries me is that he didn't put up a fight."

Dylan wasn't in the state of mind to 'put up a fight' as Zoe had put it. He felt like it was game over. He'd spent so long hiding it all, keeping his secrets concealed with people he could trust. Lily had done so well too, she hadn't breathed a word to anyone. Zoe meant well but the second she went to Connie he would be defeated. The final grains of sand, which had somehow managed to keep suspended in his hourglass for so long, had lost grip and were hurtling towards the bottom.

Everything was wrong, nothing would be the same now Connie knew.

He made dinner but barely touched it. He picked up Dervla's lead and they walked miles across Holby, the spring air crisp and cold, slipping its icy fingers between the gaps in his coat. He'd forgotten to wear his scarf. It started to rain, and he pulled his coat closer to him. His phone began to vibrate in an inner pocket of his coat, but he ignored it, not wanting to speak to Zoe now.

He hadn't expected her to be sitting on the doorstep of the boat in the pouring rain, her mascara smudged onto her cheeks. She stood up as soon as she saw him, almost slipping on the wet deck of the boat in her heels. He put his hands under her elbows to hold her steady.

"I suppose this means you've been to speak to Connie then," he said.

"Yes, and I wanted to tell you not to worry," Zoe said. "She's not going to sign you off sick, just like that!"

"Good." They stood awkwardly in the driving rain, Zoe shuffling from foot to foot and Dylan standing as if nothing was wrong.

"Well, thank you," Dylan said gruffly.

"You're welcome, I'll see you tomorrow."

When Dylan got himself ready for bed that night, he noticed he'd been pulling his belt in one hole further than usual. The boat was very quiet, normally this was the thing her loved the boat about it. The silence was intrusive tonight, ringing in his ears. Dervla hadn't slept on the bottom of his bed since she was a puppy, but he was glad that when he invited her in, she curled up at the foot of the bed like she'd done it every night of her life.


	11. Chapter 11

_Dylan stood in resus, changing his latex gloves as a patient was wheeled into bay 4. He tapped his thigh as he listened to Jeff relay the information he needed. Tap-tap-tap-tap. Pause. Tap-tap-tap-tap._

 _"This is Charlotte Cross, mid thirties, the only casualty from an ice-caused RTC. She was pulled from the car by a clueless member of the public, so we've got no idea what effect this will have had on her. Severe impact to the chest but we're more concerned at the moment about her legs. Fluctuating resps, low BP, GCS of 7 since we got to her, sats of 95% with oxygen, she's had ten of morphine -"_

" _Stop!" Dylan shouted. He'd seen all this before, Charlotte Cross had come through resus before and she hadn't made it. These were the exact words Jeff had used. There wasn't even ice on the ground any more, what was going on? He made his way, shakily, to the top of the bed, feeling his chest tighten anxiously, to see his patient's face._

" _Oh my God," he said. "I can't – it's – what the hell is happening?"_

" _What's happening, mate, is that you're doing a shit job of treating the patient," Jeff said coldly, before leaving resus arm in arm with Dixie. But Dylan barely heard him. It wasn't Charlotte Cross on the bed at all._

 _It was Lily._

 _"Zoe, come on, it's Lily, we need to act fast or she's going to bleed out. Come on!" Zoe stood stock still, not moving a muscle. "Zoe, help!" he said, panic bubbling inside him as he tried to stop the blood pouring from the deep gashes on Lily's legs. Zoe didn't move, then she suddenly flew forwards and pulled Dylan off the junior doctor._

" _Get off me, Zoe, she's dying, get off, get off!" He tried to loosen the iron grip Zoe had around his chest but he couldn't. Lily face grew paler as her blood began to drip onto the tiled floor in sticky crimson puddles._

" _Haven't you read the memo going around? It's against hospital policy to treat a member of your own department, you can't touch her," Zoe said maliciously._

" _I'm not waiting for someone from upstairs, there's no time. Look, she is going to bleed out unless I do something now, what part of that don't you understand? Let go of me!"_

 _The doors swung open and Rita entered the room, followed closely by Ethan and Connie. Ethan pushed past the two women to run to Lily's side, and almost fell over the top of the bed, tears pouring down her face._

" _Why can't you do anything? Why won't you save her?" His eyes were wild and accusing. "Dylan, do something!"_

" _You know the rules Ethan," Zoe said. "He can't touch her."_

" _Screw the rules! She might be dying, and you're concerned about the rules?" Ethan said angrily. He held Lily's hand, which was turning paler by the second._

" _I want to help her, I promise you Ethan. Zoe, let go!" He wrenched himself free of Zoe's grasp and put a handful of gauze over Lily's leg. The blood soaked straight through almost instantly. Rita stepped forward, looking at Zoe. They each grabbed one of his arms and dragged him backwards._

" _Just because you can't cope with the stress of being a doctor, doesn't mean you have to have a hissy fit in the middle of resus," Rita hissed cruelly in his ear._ Rita's not tall enough to reach my ears _, he though, before trying once more to pull himself free._

" _If I don't act now we won't be able to save her life and we'll be a doctor down forever, is that what you want?" he said loudly, trying so hard to shake himself free, he could feel a bead of sweat on his forehead. He couldn't lose Lily, she would listen, she could take the thoughts spiralling in him, and make them stay still. Even for an hour, she would make it all stop. They were going for coffee, maybe she could make them stop forever._

" _Rita, please, please, let go. I can't lose her, she's the only one who understands! Connie, do something!" he begged._

 _Connie had been completely motionless up to this point. She looked up and met Dylan's gaze with her piercing green-brown eyes._

 _"I'm afraid this is out of my hands. If you take one step closer to Lily Chao you will not be returning to this department, and I will personally ensure your career in medicine is over." Dylan swallowed. Medicine was such a big part of him, how could she take it away from him? It would be like telling him never to breathe again. He stayed completely still, not wanting to jeopardise himself. But then came a sound that burned his eardrums. Lily's heart monitor had flatlined. No-one reacted, no-one made any attempt to help her._

" _AAU will be down here in twenty minutes," Connie said expressionlessly._

" _I don't believe this!" Dylan shouted. "You're going to let one of the finest F2's we've ever had die because of some stupid memo from Hanssen? Are you kidding me right now?" He didn't care about himself or his career any more. Lily would die if he did nothing, and he couldn't let that happen. He ripped his arms free of Zoe and Rita and started CPR furiously._

" _Get him out," Connie said dangerously. "I will not have a completely incompetent doctor in this hospital." Rita and Zoe dragged him out of resus._ They're not strong enough for this _, he thought,_ what the hell is going on? _Connie waited until he was almost outside, before announcing with relish, "Time of death, 5.59."_

 _The lights were too bright, and getting brighter. The intense whiteness of the room made him screw his eyes shut._

" _Call yourself a doctor?" Zoe said._

The unfriendly squawk of Dylan's alarm clock woke him from his nightmare with a jolt.

 **A really short filler chapter, it's an idea I had yesterday that neatly sets off the next few, and gives you the backstory of why Dylan's day is going to start so badly in the next chapter. I'm sorry if you spent all of it thinking "What is this, it makes zero sense to me!" I hope you liked it, despite it being a little bit off piste and weird!**


	12. Chapter 12

**Hi everyone, I hope you like this chapter. The next few chapters (I'm not sure yet how many exactly) will leave where the one before left off, because all of their events happen in the same shift, which is important to the plot, but if they were in one chapter you'd be looking at over 10,000 words! So I hope you'll enjoy the first installment, please leave a review and let me know what you think!**

"Lily, Connie and I need a word with you, as soon as, please," Zoe said, when she met Lily on her way into work the next morning. Lily checked her watch, and gestured for Ethan to go on ahead of her.

"Um, is nine o'clock okay? I need to change, and..." She didn't want to say that she had to check on Dylan, but that was what would delay her the most this morning.

"That's fine. I'll see you later," Zoe replied, heading to Connie's office straight away,

Lily's watch ticked past nine o'clock, and she hadn't found Dylan. Once she'd changed into her scrubs, she checked everywhere: the staffroom, reception, triage, resus. She even tried the on-call room, just in case, but it was empty. She tried not to worry too much, it wasn't her responsibility to watch him for every minute of the day. But it certainly unsettled her to remember that Dylan was never late for anything without a good reason. Especially not work. Making her way to Connie's office, she scanned the department one last time, before timidly knocking on the door.

"I'm sorry to have kept you waiting, Mrs Beauchamp," Lily said shyly. " I was, um, Ethan asked where I was going," she lied.

"It's okay Lily," Connie said quietly. Lily tried to conceal her confusion: the clinical lead was usually the worst stickler for timekeeping. Zoe gestured to the space next to her on the sofa, and Lily took it, wondering why on earth she was here. Connie usually called people to her office about their performance, but Zoe was never there too, and besides, she didn't think she'd been doing that badly lately. Zoe observed Lily's expression and guessed what she was thinking.

"This isn't about your performance, don't panic," she said, smiling.

"Although if it puts you at ease, I think you've been doing excellently since you returned to the department," Connie added.

"Thank you," Lily said. She fidgeted with the catch on her watch. Zoe looked at Connie, having expected her to take the lead here. Connie returned an agonising look, completely at a loss over how to start this conversation. Zoe sighed.

"Um, Lily, this is going to sound crazy," she said, "But we actually wanted to speak to you about Dylan."

Lily's eyes widened and she sincerely hoped that Connie and Zoe would interpret this as surprise and confusion, rather than fear. She knew she couldn't give Dylan the help he needed. Just talking, and giving her a number when she remembered to ask, was not a long-term solution. Maybe Zoe or Connie could help him, or find someone who could do it better than her. She couldn't tell them the problems he had, not without telling him that's what she was going to do. It wouldn't be right. He trusted her, even if he had only originally told her because he was in the grip of a panic attack and frankly scared of what was happening to him. She couldn't break that trust, it wasn't fair on him. He needed her, if he didn't have anyone to talk to, he'd be in a far worse place than he was now. And Lily couldn't deny that to some degree she needed him too. There wasn't anyone else who understood where she was coming from, about the accident, as well as Dylan did (no matter how hard Ethan tried.)

She couldn't do it.

It would be nothing short of betrayal.

She nodded to Zoe, to show she was listening, but was already promising herself to stay quiet.

"I've noticed that you've worked with him a lot lately, and I need your help." Lily's cheeks burned at the thought of turning down Zoe's plea. Zoe knew the pinkening of Lily's cheeks was a sign. She persevered. "I want to help him, Lily, I know there's something wrong and I think I think you know what it is." Lily wrung her hands in her lap. Connie could see that the junior doctor felt uncomfortable, and she didn't want her to feel like she _had_ to speak out. She cleared her throat.

"Lily," she began. "I don't want you to worry that we're going to sit her until you tell us everything. We both just wanted to get you here to tell you that we'll listen if you can't cope."

"I'm coping just fine, thank you, I don't know what you're talking about," Lily said defensively, before sitting bolt upright in shock that she'd just answered back so rudely. "I'm sorry!" she said quickly. "I didn't mean to say that, Mrs Beauchamp, I'm sorry." Connie shook her head to show that it didn't matter.

"I promise that I'm not trying to question your performance or your professionalism, or your judgement in this admittedly very difficult situation. I just know that it can really take its toll, keeping everything bottle up like I think you are. I don't want to interrogate you until you tell me what's wrong with Dylan. We're not blind, we can see it too. It's just that we need to know if he needs help, and he's not speaking to Zoe that much, and obviously he wouldn't come to me." Connie's tone was almost soothing, nearly convincing Lily to spill it all. But something was stopping her. It wasn't her shyness, her still-crippling fear of public embarrassment that often seemed to pin her lips together. It was the way Dylan would immediately take back control of a resus case, the second Connie or Zoe entered the room. The air of defeat when he'd asked her to take over treatment of Paige Reading (the little girl in cubicles with dreams of being a doctor.) The look on his face, of total humiliation when he stammered so badly he couldn't get a sentence out. He didn't want them to know, so what right did she have to take that choice away from him?

"I have a duty of care to all my doctors, Lily. If Dylan needs help then that's one thing. If keeping his secrets is becoming too much for you, then I need to know, for my own peace of mind as much as anyone else's, that you'd come to one of us and let off some steam before it starts affecting your work as well as his."

Lily was well and truly cornered. Zoe knew that she knew exactly what was happening: the day of Dylan's major panic attack, she'd more or less told the consultant that she knew it all but was simply choosing not to tell her. Connie was picking her words very carefully indeed. Lily couldn't accept that she was struggling to keep quiet, without telling them everything. And she couldn't tell them to stop worrying, she was coping fine, because that was the same as telling them she did know everything. Not thinking of the other two women in the room, Lily put her head in her hands. She couldn't think through all the solutions when all the time she could feel two pairs of eyes boring into her. She wanted to escape, to run and not have to do this at all.

"I understand that this is difficult for you Lily," Zoe said softly. "I know that he trusts you. We're not saying that you have to tell us now, but if either of you are struggling, we need to know, okay?" Lily bit her lip so hard she could taste blood on her tongue. Connie thought she was ready to speak, but there was a very awkward silence in the room. After a few seconds, Lily leant down to retie her shoelaces, then looked at Zoe.

"Could I come and talk later?" she whispered. Zoe nodded, trying to put her at ease when clearly she'd rather be anywhere else.

"Whenever you need to talk, one of us will be ready."

When Lily left the office, Zoe sighed.

"She knows all of it," she said.

"You think so?" Connie asked, not quite as perceptive as the consultant in front of her.

"She knows every single little detail, but if I know her like I think I do, she won't break his trust." Zoe tucked a strand of hair behind her ear and pinched the bridge of her nose, stressed.

"She got a point though."

"Excuse me?" Zoe said, not believing what she was hearing.

"If she _does_ tell us, then he's going to close off and push everyone away."

"But if she doesn't, how are we going to help him?" They were quiet for a moment. "You did well though, I thought she would say something once you'd mentioned keeping everything bottled up."

"Thank you," Connie said. "But I was completely lost, you got the ball rolling. Let me know if she comes to talk to you later."

It was nearly ten o'clock when Lily noticed Dylan in the department for the first time. She was exceptionally pleased of having stayed quiet in Connie's office: he didn't look good at all.

Dylan was tired, despite having slept all night. That nightmare was still at the foreground in his mind and there was a tight knot in his stomach. He hadn't eaten any breakfast. His heart was beating faster than usual and it was only the start of the day. He'd never been more relieved to see Lily in his life, if only to try and erase the part of the nightmare where Connie had announced her death. But Lily looked anxious too. Dylan jammed his hands in his pockets, to hide the shake that he no longer had to check to know was there. She headed over to him.

"Are you okay?" he asked at once.

"You're asking me if I'm okay? You look awful – sorry, that came out wrong, you look as though you shouldn't be here."

"I – um – didn't sleep t-too well last night," he stammered. It was easier to lie than to admit he'd had a nightmare like _that_. "But what's happened to you?" he said, more confident now he could direct attention away from himself.

"Zoe and Connie asked me about you." Lily decided she might as well come clean. Watching Dylan's face fall faster than a rollercoaster, she added quickly, "It's okay, I didn't tell them anything."

"Thank you."

"But I think Zoe knows already. She can tell that I know," she said worriedly.

"She's always been annoyingly good at reading minds."

He didn't say anything more about it, but Lily couldn't shake it from her mind. It weighed down on her as they took their first case together in resus. It wouldn't be long before the secret broke, and when it did, it would come down on them both like a ton of bricks. But she had to focus, because Dylan was missing things. She saw the shake in his hands and pulled the intubation equipment from between his fingers before any of the nurses saw. Dylan's heart was still pounding, and he was glad that Lily couldn't notice that. He checked a CT scan and compulsively tapped his thigh, not even conscious of doing it any more. Tap-tap-tap-tap. Pause. Tap-tap-tap-tap. Lily looked over the bed at him. She couldn't see him tapping, but she could see his wrist twitching. She'd never felt so conflicted.

"You look like it's been a rough morning," Ethan said when Lily sat down next to him in the staffroom at lunchtime.

"You could say that," she said, intertwining her fingers in his. Ethan smiled, rubbing his thumb on the silky smooth side of her hand.

"I've been thinking, normal couples -"

"What makes you think we're one of those?" Lily laughed, kissing his cheek.

"I have absolutely no idea," Ethan said, returning her warm smile. "But normal couples go on holiday together, right?"

"Right..."

"So where shall we go?"

"I have absolutely no idea," Lily said, copying his words and tone exactly.


	13. Chapter 13

She felt like she was shaking so hard everyone was looking at her. Lily looked at her watch, stalling for time. She pulled her sleeves over her hands. _You look like a toal mess, Lily Chao, pull yourself together_ , she thought as she watched Zoe leave the staffroom. Inhaling deeply through her nose, Lily followed her out into the department.

"Dr Hanna?" she said nervously. It was noisy, so at first she wondered if Zoe had heard her at all. But the consultant turned around and the muscles in her face immediately relaxed when she noticed who was talking to her. Lily looked at her meaningfully and Zoe walked her straight to Connie's office, not wanting to waste a second of Lily's sudden confidence.

Lily was glad Connie's office was empty. The Clinical Lead meant well, but she was an intimidating figure all the same.

"In your own time," Zoe said, forcing herself to stay calm although she felt like she was on the edge of her seat, ready to absorb Lily's every word and spring into action. The junior doctor took a deep breath, then spoke quietly, as if she expected Dylan to be listening at the keyhole.

"First of all, I don't know why, okay?" This wasn't a complete lie. He hadn't told her why he was having so many problems _right now._ But then, she'd brought Zoe in here, so she had to tell her the whole truth.

"Well – I sort of do. He – um." She faltered. Of all things, she couldn't mention the panic attack. "He still completely blames himself about my foot, but I suppose you knew that already."

"Hmm. Go on."

"And he's convinced he could have done more to save Charlotte Cross. He still beats himself up about that, every day. But there's more to it than that, I'm sure of it. It's like everything's getting too much for him, in a really bad way."

Zoe sighed. If even Lily couldn't tell her why Dylan was struggling, what chance did any of them have?

"Okay. So what's happening? And why did you wait until now?"

"I – I didn't think it was that bad'" Lily lied. "I thought I could handle it myself, I was trying to help him, but I can't, I don't know how."

"Oh Lily," Zoe said, sighing again. "You don't have to feel like that."

"I know. And -" She didn't want to say it, but she knew she had to. "You were right, he does trust me, I know he does. I didn't want to break that, who knows where we'll be is he stops talking about it altogether? But he needs help, Zoe, you've got to help him, because I don't know how any more. His hands shake, even though he tries to hide it I can see it. He's not sleeping, not really and he's scared of doing something wrong, all the time. That's why he kept teaching me to do things, so that he wouldn't have to. He slipping away, hiding behind a brick wall, and if he finds out I've said a word he'll probably shut me out completely." Zoe could hear the raw emotion in Lily's voice, the passion for what she believed was right pushing her past the discomfort of breaking a promise.

"I will do my best to make sure Dylan gets the help he needs."

"There's one more thing. I don't quite understand it, but he does this thing, when he's anxious or stressed or whatever." Lily struggled to explain it without turning it into something trivial. "He – um, he taps things, usually his thigh because it's closest to his hand, sometimes the side of a bed, or the back of a clipboard. But always in fours, like this." She put her hand on her lap and tapped her knee with her fingertips, exactly as Dylan did. Tap-tap-tap-tap. Pause. Tap-tap-tap-tap. Zoe looked worried, and Lily immediately wished she'd said nothing. She felt her cheeks grow warm – she'd lost the skill of hauling a blush under control some time ago.

Dylan was in the staffroom with a newspaper. Rita came in, her fringe askew. Dylan tried not to make it obvious that he was looking at her, but it was difficult. Rita didn't seem to mind.

"Coffee?" she asked.

"Please," he replied minimally, wishing he could say something a bit less boring and monosyllabic. He kicked himself internally for not offering to make the coffee himself. _Some gentleman you are_ , he thought. _Say something then!_ It was like he was emptying the filing cabinets in his mind, rummaging through a whole lifetime of memories to find something to say. He was relieved when Rita started making small talk. He made an effort to smile once or twice too, and it lit him up inside when she returned them. She had some kind of power over the dark clouds in his mind, she alone seemed able to burst them, one by one. Lily could keep them at bay, of course, but she couldn't stop them coming back.

"You shouldn't worry so much, you'll get frown lines," Rita said lightly, sitting across from him and handing him his mug. Dylan didn't touch it.

"I already have frown lines, and I'm not worrying, I'm just fine," he said stiffly. _What are you doing Dylan? Backtrack!_

"Sorry, I didn't mean -" Rita said quickly.

"I know you didn't, I didn't mean to snap at you. I'm fine, I'm sure." He knew he hadn't fixed the situation at all.

"I'll see you later," Rita said, standing up and leaving her half-full cup on the table. She wanted to say something, to erase what she'd just said and let him know that she did still care about him. Clearly he _was_ worrying about something, but it wasn't helping to point it out. Before she slipped out of the door, she said quietly,

"Just don't forget that you are an excellent doctor Dylan."

Dylan wondered what he'd done to deserve a compliment like that. He was very glad the room was now empty except for him, he was mildly embarrassed. Especially since the compliment clearly wasn't true.

Rita suddenly burst back into the room.

"We need two doctors in resus as soon as please. A teenager's been stabbed, ETA five minutes," she said quickly. Dylan nodded. On his way to resus, he saw Lily. He tapped her shoulder to get her attention, making her jump.

"Sorry," he said. When she turned around he wanted nothing more than to pretend he hadn't touched her and he was looking for somebody else. She looked wounded, broken, like she might be on the verge of tears.

"Um, are you okay to come to resus now? Stab wound."

"Yeah, sure," Lily said, although she sounded distracted and distant.

"Lily, if it's a problem I can ask someone else. Has something happened?"

"No," she said, far too quickly for it to be believable. "Shall we go then?"

"Not until you've told me what's going on," he said firmly. She was fidgeting with her sleeves uncomfortably, and there was a spot of blood on her lower lip from where she'd bitten it. He raised his eyebrows, waiting.

"I told Zoe, okay? I'm sorry, I had to, I – I didn't – it just came out! I nearly told her everything," she whispered. "I'm sorry Dylan," she said, but he'd turned on his heel and headed straight to resus without her. She kicked the wall in frustration.

That was it then. Game well and truly over. Of Zoe knew, he might as well start clearing his locker and emptying the drawers in his desk. He had to prove he could do this. He decided there and then to pour everything he had into this case. It would likely be his last, because once news reached Connie she'd think he was crazy. He'd be out of the hospital for good before the end of the shift.

The teenage boy was in a bad way. Rita had already cut off his hoodie, exposing the unassumingly small hole between his ribs. Dylan knew better than the think the boy would be fine, simply because he wasn't bleeding externally. Chances were that he was bleeding out internally.

"Okay," he said, taking control although it was the very last thing he felt like doing. If it was going to be his last case, what did it matter that everyone could see his hands shaking? Rita was looking at him disapprovingly, he didn't have to glance up from his patient to know that.

"I need two units of O-neg and..." He paused, weighing things up and trying to find some air to breathe that didn't threaten to suffocate him. 7, 8. "And another fou – _five_ cross-matched." He couldn't say it, not now, or this boy was going to die too.

9.

"A please would be nice," Rita muttered under her breath. It was five minutes before she could get any blood at all, and she watched Dylan intently. He clenched and unclenched his fists, breathing deeply as if he was in pain. The blood bags arrived at last, and he was about to hang one on the drip-stand when Louise walked into resus. Everyone looked up at once – the receptionist usually avoided resus at all costs.

"Dr Keogh, there's an urgent call for you. It's about your dog."

10.

Dylan dropped the blood bag.

 **Sorry to leave you on such a cliffhanger! I'll try to update tomorrow. I hope you liked the chapter, please leave a review and let me know what you think :)**


	14. Chapter 14

**I wasn't sure I'd get this chapter done for today, but after uploading yesterday I got an idea, and I had to run with it - I think I somehow managed to write the whole chapter in less than two hours! I hope you like it, I really liked writing this one. Please leave a review and let me know what you think, I've had this chapter simmering in my mind since before I started the story, so it's almost a relief to get it out at last!**

Having taken Dylan's place in resus, Zoe wanted to know what the phone call was about. Louise had refused to tell her what it was when she came looking for someone to take over the case. They had managed to save the boy who'd been stabbed, thank goodness, even with one less blood bag. When Dylan had dropped his, it had more or less exploded, with his white shirt taking the worst of it. He'd walked out the room like nothing had happened, so distracted by the content of the phone call that he'd barely noticed he was drenched in blood. Thankfully Louise had put the call through to his office, to save him the embarrassment of standing around, covered in blood. He was still too numb to notice.

Zoe walked past his office in time to see him slam the phone receiver down on the handset and sit down heavily, his head in his hands. She knocked at the door.

"What was all that about?" she asked.

"Um, I forgot to pay this month's mooring for the boat, and the harbour master can be a total nightmare," he lied.

"You're sorted now, right?"

"Oh yes, all sorted. He gave me such an earful, it was quite entertaining actually." Zoe narrowed her eyes. Dylan didn't look amused in the slightest, more shocked, almost upset.

"Do you have a clean shirt with you? You might want to change," she said carefully. Dylan looked down at his shirt and looked surprised.

"No, I'll have to go and get some scrubs from the spares."

"Let me go, you wait here," Zoe offered. He nodded.

Once she was gone he pulled the blinds shut as tightly as they would go, and allowed himself to react to the phone call. It had indeed been about Dervla, but he wished it could have been anything else, anything but this. He felt sick, but he couldn't excuse himself or people would get suspicious. Currently, he didn't even have any qualms about walking out of the hospital and never coming back again, save for the fact that he was covered in blood. And he needed to make amends with Lily. She still needed her, even if she'd told Zoe everything, she still understood things. Speaking of which, he'd mentally judged himself to have hit a ten on the scale he and Lily had used. That wasn't a ten.

But this was.

The news he'd received physically hurt him, a burning sensation in his chest, an iron grip around his trachea. He could barely breathe, it hurt so much. But he really couldn't afford to let himself cry, not here. He couldn't go back to the boat either. He bit the skin around his thumb, whilst his other hand tapped non-stop on the side of the chair. Dylan didn't even notice he was doing it any more.

Zoe came back into the room with a pair of scrubs, smiling.

"Put the radio on," she said,

"What?"

"I've got no idea, Ethan told me to, I just saw him. He looked on top of the world."

"Well good for him," Dylan said bitterly, unbuttoning his shirt and turning away from Zoe. His heart was beating so hard, he could see the skin at the bottom of his ribs pulsing. Zoe turned on the radio. A song was just ending, then they heard Noel's familiar voice reading out a request.

"I've got a very special request no, from Dr Ethan Hardy in the Emergency Department. He'd like me to play this song for, in his words, _the inimitable and completely amazing Dr Lily Chao,_ because he thinks that she's the most wonderful woman in the world. Oh, and Dr Chao? He'd like you to go to reception as soon as you can please. Enjoy the song."

"What on earth is he doing?" Dylan said, as he pulled the scrubs shirt over his head, and Ed Sheeran's 'Kiss Me' began to play.

"I don't know, but I think it's beautiful," Zoe said. "Oh, don't be grumpy, he loves her!"

"I know, and I'm not, I'm just -" Cal suddenly burst in, interrupting him. "Dr Knight, get out of my office, now," he said sternly.

"Cal, what is it?" Zoe said. Cal looked like he'd been running.

"I know the request said for Lily to go to reception, but if you're not busy, I think you'll want to see this." And he disappeared again, obviously looking for as many people as possible. Zoe shook her head, laughing.

"I don't believe this," she said.

"Don't believe what?"

"You'll see, I think," she replied, a smile spreading across her face.

Lily knew her cheeks were pink, there was no denying it. She didn't have to first idea what was happening, but she obediently made her way to reception, the beautiful song Ethan had chosen following her every step. Reception was... normal, people milling about as if nothing out of the ordinary was going on.

"Dr Chao!" Louise called her to the desk. "These are for you." She pulled a bouquet of flowers from behind the desk. Red roses and deep pink lilies were arranged around glossy, emerald green leaves. The fluorescent strip lighting in the ceiling glinted off them, and highlighted a silver card propped in the petals of a rose. Lily turned it over. In Ethan's beautiful handwriting, it said simply: _turn around_.

Lily looked down at the flowers shyly, closing her eyes for a moment to savour the classic 'old rose' scent that she loved, and appreciate the heady fragrance of the lilies she was named for. Hesitantly, she turned around.

Ethan was standing on a chair just behind her, grinning like it was the best day of his life.

"Ethan Hardy, what on earth do you think you're doing?" she said, returning a smile.

"Getting your attention," he said.

"Goal achieved. Now please get down before you do yourself an injury." She held out her hand to him, so he could get down without slipping.

"Do you like the flowers?" he asked hopefully.

"They're amazing. Are you going to explain to me what's going on here?"

He paused for a moment, before taking both of her hands in his. "Um, yes."

"Lily Chao, you make me smile from the moment I wake up beside you to the last time I see you before I fall asleep. I love you because I know I can be myself around you, and it's completely okay if I forget where I'm going with a sentence and just babble, because I know you'll be there to put me back on track. You don't mind all the weird things that I don't like about myself -"

"Like the way your hair sticks up all over in the morning," she said, raising a laugh from the small crowd which had gathered. She was very aware of being watched, but knew that standing here, with Ethan, nothing was going to go wrong. She looked into his eyes and caught the sparkle that she'd fallen in love with.

"Precisely," he replied. "You helped me through the most difficult time in my life, and you've been strong enough to pull yourself through something no-one should have to." He looked down at her artificial foot, and nudged it with the toe of his shoe affectionately.

"Get off," she said gently, holding his hands tighter. He made her feel whole again. It didn't matter that she only had half of her left leg, because Ethan didn't care.

"Everyone was so upset after your accident, because you're too good a doctor and too big a part of this department for anything to happen to you. There was about an hour, when you were in theatre, when I genuinely believed that I would never see you again -" His voice cracked. He swallowed hard and went on. "There were a lot of things, I made a list, actually. I wrote down everything that I would miss if I never saw you again, all the things that it would be a crime to forget. I promised myself that one day I would do this, and I'd make sure you knew exactly how much I love you." He wiped Lily's eyes with his thumbs as a few tears escaped onto her cheeks. Lily silently berated herself for looking at Dylan in the corner of her vision. She tried to concentrate all her attention on Ethan, he'd said so many wonderful things. But something wasn't right. Ethan went on, and Lily looked back into his sparkling eyes.

"Your smile makes me feel like a thousand raindrops are beating down on me. It tingles in my skin and makes me think that you deserve someone so much better than me. The little things you do when you're feeling shy, they're the things you hate but I think they're breathtaking. The way you pull your sleeves over your hands, like you're so anxious even your hands don't want to be seen. I hope one day you'll be able to understand how much I want to take that feeling away. Even when we first me I noticed how you always try to tuck in loose strands of your ponytail, even if there aren't any. It sounds like a stupid thing to love, but it's so elegant you wouldn't believe. And the glint in your eyes when you bite your lip -" Lily relaxed her jaw at once: biting her lip was exactly what she;d been doing as Ethan spoke.

"But the thing I love the most about you, the one thing I want you to remember from all of this if you forget everything else, is the way you make me feel, just here." He took her hand and pressed it to his chest over his heart. She felt it beating under her skin and was transported back to all those nights where he'd made her feel so safe, and in the silent house the only sound in her ears was the steady movement of one muscle.

"You make me feel like I could do absolutely anything, as long as you're here with me." He paused, and licked the corner of his lip nervous. "Which is why I want to ask you something." Cal stepped forward and pressed a blue satin box into Ethan's hand. Ethan dropped onto one knee and opened the box. "Lily Chao, would you please do me the honour of becoming my -"

"DYLAN!" Lily screamed, as she watched the consultant fall, smacking his head into a row of chairs as he collapsed to the ground, limp as a rag doll.


	15. Chapter 15

**This chapter was so hard to write, I think you'll understand why once you've read it, but I hope it was worth the wait, and you enjoy it.**

"Dylan?" Zoe's voice seemed distant, like the sound was being blocked from his ears by some invisible forcefield. He felt her hands on his shoulders, and heard her calling his name again. Her voice was getting closer.

"Dylan," she repeated. "Wake up, please. For me." She sounded upset. He wanted to help her, tell her it was okay, make her feel better. But opening his eyes would mean waking up and having to face all of his problems at the same time. It would be so much easier to stay here with his eyes closed. But he'd put Zoe through enough, keeping everything from her like he had done recently. Reluctantly, he opened his eyes.

"Dylan," she breathed, the relief evident in her voice.

"Zoe, I'm sorry, I didn't – Ow." He looked around and was relieved to see that someone had put up screens around him. But his head hurt. His arms felt heavy and he lifted one hand to touch his forehead, where the most immediate pain seemed to be residing. He could feel blood and sweat under his fingertips. He wondered what had happened: he'd been standing in reception, but then what?

"Don't touch that," Zoe said gently, holding his hand and bringing it back down to his side, but not letting go.

"Your hands are cold," Dylan remarked. "What happened, exactly?"

"You tell me, all I know is that you dropped like a sack of wet cement and caught your head on the chairs!" Dylan closed his eyes again, mortified that he'd fallen somewhere so public. "No Dylan, open your eyes, keep them open for me. You hit your head really hard so you need to stay awake, okay?"

"You're talking to me like I'm a patient who doesn't know what's happening," he said sarcastically, looking straight at her.

"Well, you are a patient now, and from what you just asked me, you're not entirely sure what happened, so which part of that statement was wrong?" she said, smiling a little and squeezing his hand before letting go. His sarcasm was back, she'd seen precious little of it lately so it had to be a good sign.

Zoe was surprised that he didn't put up any objection to getting onto a trolley and being wheeled into a side room. This she had insisted on – he didn't need the added pressure of more people seeing him and hearing what had happened. He looked so defeated. Dylan knew he had to tell her now. And bizarrely, he felt ready to do it, the thought didn't fill him up with panic and fear any more.

Zoe stitched the cut on his head with great care, watching his facial expression avidly. Dylan tried his best not to frown in discomfort, he knew it wouldn't be at all helpful.

"All done, but you're having a head CT as soon as they've got a slot," she said, pulling off her latex gloves and putting them in the bin.

"Okay," Dylan replied simply.

"And we _need_ to talk. This isn't you, Dylan, normally you'd be fighting to be in control of all of this. Please just say something, anything at all that isn't just going along with what's happening," Zoe pleaded.

"Normally I wouldn't be keeling over in the middle of reception either, but you neglected to mention that."

"That's a start, being all sarky with me. You can do better than that," she encouraged, desperate for some sense of normality in all this chaos. All of a sudden, Dylan seemed to entirely shut down. He ran a hand through his hair, then wrung his hands in his lap, not looking up. Zoe sat on the bed and put her hands on top of his.

"I can't do better than that," he said, and Zoe couldn't place his emotion at all. Normally so perceptive, she couldn't work out in the slightest whether he was angry, upset or frustrated.

"Dylan, what's happened, please tell me, I can help I promise," she said worriedly.

"No you can't. Because -" His voice cracked and his whole body shook as he began to cry.

"Dylan?" Zoe didn't know how to react, in all the years she'd known him she'd never once seen him cry, and now he was breaking his heart right in front of her.

"Dervla died this morning," he said, fat tears rolling down his cheeks.

Zoe jumped up at once like she'd been electrocuted, springing from the bed. She pulled all the blinds shut and managed to catch Rita's eye through the glass, with a look that told her not to let anyone disturb them. All this taken care of, Zoe could let her guard down. She didn't even care what Dylan's reaction would be, she didn't stop to think before sitting on the bed with him and wrapping her arms around him in a tight hug, holding him together as he grieved for his true best friend. His sobs threatened to tear him apart, the bond the two of them had shared was far beyond anything any human had ever achieved with the gruff and often standoffish consultant.

"I'm so sorry Dylan," she said, willing herself not to start crying too. Dylan needed her to be strong right now, but it was so hard to think of him going home to an empty boat when he was discharged. Having no reason to walk the streets of Holby at strange times of day. Dylan without Dervla was something that didn't bear thinking about, and now it had been thrust upon him at the worst time possible.

After a while, he was silent, and unappreciative of how much more his head hurt now than before.

"Um, there is something that I should have told you," he said slowly. "The phone call, it was..." He didn't need to say it for Zoe to understand, but it felt right for him to say it all, no matter how much it burned his insides. The phone call had been the emergency vet. There was a twist in Dervla's stomach and there was nothing they could do – even with surgery it was highly likely it would just happen again.

"They wanted to know if – if I wanted to proceed with surgery anyway, knowing the risks to her, or -" He couldn't say the word.

"It's okay, you don't have to say it," Zoe said. "Dylan, why didn't you go? We all would have understood if you'd said you had to leave. For God's sake I think we would have understood if you'd just upped and left without telling anyone!"

"I couldn't do it Zoe!" he snapped. "I couldn't sit with her as she slipped away, I wouldn't want her last thought to be that I wanted it to end like this!" He pulled his knees up to his chest and hid his face, fed up of Zoe seeing him in such a state. Tears pricked Zoe's eyes.

A few minutes later, Dylan sat up straight.

"There's more that I've been keeping from you," he said quietly.

"I know, and we can talk about all of it after your CT, I think they're nearly ready for you now, okay?"

"You are an amazing person, Zoe Hanna, and don't ever let yourself forget it," he said, disguising the shake in his voice.

 **Please leave a review, I can't wait to find out what you think x**


	16. Chapter 16

**I hope you like this chapter, sorry for the gap in uploading, I haven't had chance to sit down and have a nice long writing session for a couple of days! I really want to get this story finished before I go back to sixth form at the end of next week but I'm not sure it's going to happen. Fingers crossed though :)**

The CT scan came back all clear, much to the relief of everyone who had seen Dylan fall. He hung his head in embarrassment once he and Zoe returned to his side room, anticipating having to tell her everything. She didn't push him in the least, and eventually he began to pour it out.

"The only reason I blame myself for Lily's amputation is that I should have been on the trauma team that day, not her. My name was on the rota to go next, but I was lazy and stupid and took on a case in cubicles instead, to avoid Connie. So she asked Lily instead. If I'd not been so stupid, it wouldn't have happened, because neither Ethan or I would have fitted through the gap into the room with the patient," he said, the honesty stinging his throat.

"Dylan, you're not lazy, or stupid, and no-one thinks that of you. Because you have never once been those things. I hope one day you can accept that you're not to blame. I understand that all of this is going to be hard for you, but keep going, please. I promise you that when you get to the end, I _will_ be able to get you some help. I promise," Zoe said earnestly, proud that her best friend was finding the courage, at last, to speak out, even at a horrific time like this.

"Um, I started getting stressed, in a way that I could notice it, when Lily came back to work. I think it was just being constantly reminded of what I did."

"You know she went to Connie, don't you?" Zoe asked. "The shift she spent, paired with you, the second it finished she was in Connie's office to make sure you were separate if it was in any way possible. She knew from the start how uncomfortable it made you."

"I didn't know," Dylan confessed. "I didn't have a clue."

"But what I don't understand is how you two became so close, if she was so determined to avoid you," Zoe said, perplexed. She'd had a lot of time to think about this, but her guesswork had gotten her nowhere on this occasion. She watched Dylan closely. His cheeks turned red: he was obviously hiding something that he'd kept to himself for a long time. Zoe stayed quiet. If the words were on the tip of his tongue, she didn't want to do anything to stop him talking.

"Lily came across me, when I was -" he faltered. Zoe had to know about the panic attacks, he had to tell her. But this was one of his hardest secrets to give up. Apart from the reason Charlotte Cross had affected him so much.

"I – um -" He sighed. "When Lily found me, I was having... a panic attack. It was completely by chance, she'd come to get her watch from the on-call room and I had forgotten to lock the door," Dylan said.

"Oh my God, Dylan," Zoe said, resisting the urge to ask him why he'd never come to her about it.

"Lily was amazing, honestly, and I wanted to tell you, I really did. I just couldn't. You were always busy or in a busy place and it never seemed like a safe time."

"Safe?" Zoe questioned, choosing to ignore the fact he'd always thought she was too busy for him. Dylan mentally kicked himself for his poor choice of words.

"Yes. I – I thought that as soon as you knew, you'd go to Connie and I thought she'd never let me back to work. I thought I was going mad."

" I promise you, at no point were you going mad. And I promise you with everything I've got, I won't let you go mad now, not on my watch." She tucked her hair behind her ear. That must have been the day he went home early, because Lily had known something that she wouldn't tell. Which means his panic attack must have been linked to –

"Dylan, I know you've struggled and really beat yourself up about saying all of this, but I need you to keep going, just one last thing. I need you to tell my why you found it so hard to let go of Charlotte Cross."

This was it. Dylan had so hoped she wouldn't ask this, it all just seemed so trivial now. And yet if he thought about it, every ounce of that fear came rushing back. He could picture exactly how he felt when Charlotte Cross arrived in resus, and the moment he knew she wouldn't leave it alive.

"Can I be really honest right now?" he said uncertainly.

"Dylan, I think you've been more honest with me this afternoon than you've been at any point since I've known you," Zoe smiled. "So fire away."

"Well, Lily often did this thing, where she'd ask me for a number, on this arbitrary scale that we created. Before I passed out, I remember feeling that I was a thousand miles past ten. When we started talking, I was okay, maybe a four, which is normal for me at the moment. But as soon as you mentioned Charlotte, I could immediately feel myself getting worse, like an instant six or seven. Does that help you understand why this is hard for me?" He wanted more than anything for Zoe to understand and not just notice.

"We don't have to do this now," Zoe said gently. "You've had a really, really bad day, and I don't want to make it any worse -"

"You're not," Dylan assured her. "And I want to do it now, because I'm scared that if I don't I'll keep it all bottle up forever and I really don't want that."

"Don't rush yourself on my account, all right? Try and keep the numbers low if you can."

"Okay. You remember her injuries, right? Significant trauma to the chest."

"And deep lacerations on her legs," Zoe added. She remembered all right, but she didn't know where this was going at all.

"Yes. I – you don't understand how stupid I feel, saying this out loud. I'm a doctor, I'm not supposed to feel like this! I'm meant to go from one patient to the next like the last one never happened!" Dylan said. Zoe didn't know how to respond. She was at a loss because she'd never seen Dylan tear himself apart like this.

"Go on, you can do this."

"Do you remember what she looked like?" he asked, making Zoe think he was avoiding the inevitable again. She humoured him, hoping that eventually they would get somewhere.

"No, why would I?"

Dylan seemed crumpled, like he was falling back into himself. He wondered for a moment whether he'd made it all up after all and he really was going mad. But the memories, and the nightmares, were far too strong for this to be anything but the truth. He forced his breathing under control, and felt Zoe slip her hand under his. He screwed his eyes shut and pinched the bridge of his nose. He wanted to fall through the mattress, through the linoleum floor, through the foundations of the hospital and out. Just out. Because then there might be a minuscule chance of him not feeling like this.

"She looked like Lily," he said, hating that tears were threatening at the corners of his eyes again.

"Oh Dylan," Zoe sighed. The mystery was solving itself in her mind and she began to feel very uncomfortable.

"She looked like Lily, and her legs were in a similar mess to Lily's when the rescue team dragged her from that building. And I couldn't save her." He looked wounded, like he was admitting a terrible fault in himself. Zoe wanted to take away whatever hurt he was feeling, but she didn't know how.

Dylan felt humiliated, a piece of himself had fallen away. His armour of gruffness, sarcasm and closely guarded secrets had tumbled down, leaving him feeling like he'd had a plaster torn from his skin, everywhere on his body. It took a moment for him to realise that he also felt so much lighter, like he could sit up straighter, in a way he hadn't been able to for so long now.

But there was still a dull ache, well, two of them. One, at the front of his head, could be easily taken care of with some intravenous painkillers. But there wasn't a drug in the world that could take away the pain of losing Dervla.

All of a sudden, having just mentioned Lily, Dylan remembered what had been happening before he passed out.

"Oh my God, Ethan was proposing to Lily!" he said. "Tell me she said yes, please tell me she said yes."

"I think you might have to ask her that yourself," Zoe said, pleased to see Dylan looking happy again. "I'll send her in. I'll come and see you tomorrow, make sure you sleep enough tonight and try not to worry, okay?"

"Oh stop fussing Zoe," Dylan said, impatient to know the outcome of the beautiful situation he had so spectacularly interrupted.


	17. Chapter 17

**Here it is, the chapter with Lily's answer! I hope you like it :)**

Tap-tap-tap-tap. Pause. Tap-tap-tap-tap. Dylan was waiting for Lily to come and see him, desperate to know what her answer to Ethan had been. She arrived after a few minutes, biting her lip to hold back a smile.

"Don't do this to me Lily," he said, referencing the fact her hands were knotted behind her back, so he couldn't even see if she was wearing a ring. She closed the door quietly and sat down on the vacant chair next to the bed.

"Come on then, what did you say?" Dylan persisted.

Lily was positively glowing with happiness. She couldn't conceal her smile any more.

"What else could I possibly say except yes?"

She looked so different, Dylan found it hard to believe that one question could change a person so much. Lily's hair had been drawn back into a French plait earlier, but she'd pulled it loose now and it hung in waves around her face. She tossed her head back to smile at the ceiling, a little embarrassed, making her hair tumble back over her shoulders. Her cheeks were pink like she'd been laughing and smiling for a long time.

"Congratulations," Dylan said. "I'm sure you don't need me to tell you how good a couple you make."

"Thank you."

"He cares so much about you, you know that don't you?"

"I think I've got a pretty good idea," Lily said, smiling as she thought of the flowers, the kindest words she'd ever heard in her life, and the fact that one day soon she'd be married to the one she couldn't live without.

"Now can we please cut the small talk? You know I want to ask what happened to you out there," she said, her tone becoming calm and serious, undercut with concern.

Dylan sighed. This wasn't like talking to Zoe, who needed every last detail for any of this to make sense. Lily knew all of that stuff already, she just needed to know what happened today. It was a shame that the hardest things to tell were the ones that had unfolded since this morning.

"I told you this morning that I was one edge because I hadn't slept much," he began. "But that wasn't exactly true. I – um – haven't told Zoe about this, and you don't understand how little I wanted to tell you, but I know I need to get it off my chest." Lily could see him fidgeting uncomfortably.

"Before you do, give me a number."

"Seven," he replied honestly, his heart pounding in his chest and his thoughts circulating uncomfortably quickly.

"Then we can wait. Just listen to your breathing for a minute or two and when you're feeling okay you can start again."

"Did you not just get engaged? Don't you have places to be?" he asked. Lily raised one eyebrow.

"I have the whole rest of my life to be engaged," she said quietly. "But I only have right now to sit down and listen to you."

"Am I going somewhere?" Dylan retorted sarcastically. "Are you all finally throwing me out and shipping me off to a desert island?"

"I see you didn't lose your sarcasm when you were admitted," Lily remarked. "Stop avoiding the inevitable. What happened today, that was so bad that your breathing was so much out of control for you to pass out?" Dylan was humbled by how much she cared. "And besides, you know that I won't go home until you've told me."

A few minutes of silence followed, and Lily realised after about thirty seconds that it wouldn't be an awkward silence at all. She thought back to before her accident, when she had been shy of the consultant for the way his acerbic comments and gruff tone got under her skin and made her feel uncomfortable. But her most striking memory of that time was the moment her opinion of him completely changed. When Zoe had made her realise that he actually did care, and Lily had realised by herself that she didn't need to be shy any more. Well, to be more precise, there were plenty of reasons to still be shy, just fewer of them with Dylan. Lily was certain that she could call him a friend now, and a close one at that. It was a comfortable silence. It wasn't that there was nothing to say, just that they didn't need to say it.

"I had a nightmare," Dylan said at last. "I was – I was in resus, and they brought in Charlotte Cross again. But it wasn't her. It was you, and as soon as everyone realised , they made me stop, they wouldn't let me help you." Lily was astounded to see tears rolling down Dylan's cheeks, his whole body shaking with sobs of guilt and remorse. She didn't think twice before wrapping her arms around him in a comforting hug. Dylan froze at first, then relaxed and hugged her back, thankful that he had a friend close enough to confess this to. He hadn't even found the strength to tell Zoe, and yet here he was, pouring out his deepest secrets and crying as though his heart was splitting in two. Lily could tell there was something else. Zoe had told her that Dylan had had a difficult day, but this was something else entirely.

"Dylan, what happened?"

He pulled away from the hug, screwing his eyes shut and burying his face in his hands, drawing his knees up to his chest again, like a barrier to shut out the world. He hated that he had to say these words again, it only made it more real.

"I – um – got a phone call this morning, and I had to decide -" He wiped his eyes and ran a hand through his hair. "They had to put Dervla down." More tears leaked from his eyes as he spoke, but he began to pull his breathing back into his control. The involuntary sobs became fewer and further between as he calmed down.

"I'm so sorry," Lily said at once. "I don't know what to say."

"You don't have to say anything," Dylan said. "The fact that you know, and you're here, and you care, is enough. I'll be okay."

"You don't have to pretend. It's okay to be upset, no-one is going to think any less of you."

They were both quiet for a little while.

Lily looked down at her watch.  
"Oh God, I should go, you don't mind do you?"

"Not at all, I'll be fine, I promise," Dylan replied. "Go and enjoy yourself for goodness' sake, you just got engaged!" He smiled at her, and she returned it, all of her previous excitement returning.


	18. Chapter 18

**I really didn't do myself any favours, writing this straight after last night's episode! I promise that after this I will try and write more cheerfully, but hopefully all will become clear as to why I couldn't write this one (or the ending at least) like that. I hope you like it, please leave and review and let me know what you think :)**

Dylan was discharged from the hospital the next day, but not until Zoe had checked him over, again, and made him promise for what seemed like the hundredth time that he would keep his appointments with the cognitive behavioural therapist.

"Zoe, maybe this will make you understand. I want this to go away as much as you want me to be normal again, okay?"

"You, normal? The therapist won't be performing any miracles, don't get your hopes up!" Zoe laughed. "And Dylan, I don't think it's just going to go away," she said, as gently as she could.

"Okay then. I'd like it to be a smaller part of me than it is now, is that better?"

"Much better. And I've got something for you."

"I don't need a get well present," Dylan said, his embarrassment concealed with his old gruff tone.

"It's not from me, don't worry," Zoe said, pulling a folded sheet of pastel pink paper from the pocket of her scrubs.

"I meant to ask, what happened to your usual attire? I mean, these scrubs are lovely -"

"Don't push it," Zoe said. "Resus happened, a young man just bled all over my white blouse."

"Have fun getting that stain out," he replied, his voice laced with sarcasm like old times. It made Zoe happy to see him like this. She handed the paper to him, and her heart melted to see a smile split his face in two, his eyes sparkling in a way they hadn't for a long time.

The paper was slightly crumpled, from being held for a long time in little hands. There was a crayon drawing of two people, one of them a little girl with blonde curls and a bandage around her head, a doctor's bag in her hand. The second figure was a man, with a stethoscope around his neck (at least, that's what Dylan assumed it was) and a red superhero cape draped from his shoulders. Printed carefully in pencil underneath were the words: _Thank you Doctor Keogh, I'm going to be a brave doctor like you when I grow up. My head is better now, Love from Paige XX_

"She came in with that a couple of hours ago, I think you made quite an impression on her."

"I don't know how, I barely managed to treat her. That was a really bad day," Dylan said, remembering. "I wasn't brave at all."

"Well, Paige certainly seemed to think you were. Kids are more observant that you think, I reckon she would have noticed that you were having a rough time. I think it's what she admired about you. It's certainly what a lot of them out there admire about you. Myself included," she added, looking Dylan in the eyes.

On his way out of the department, lots of people offered him kind words and wishes that he would feel better soon. People that he wouldn't have expected to bat an eyelid as he walked past them. People like Rita. He didn't think she cared about him that much, regardless of what he felt about her. He wasn't sure what he felt about her, exactly, only that she had been incredibly helpful, without asking too many questions, and he'd been thinking for a while that he liked the way she looked. And he'd pushed her away, so he'd assumed she would just ignore him now. But she caught his arm as he passed her.

"Dylan, I'm really sorry about Dervla, I know how important she is to you."

"Thank you," Dylan said, really meaning it. Tears of appreciation pricked his eyes as he realised she'd said 'is' in the present tense, not 'was' Because she realised that Dervla hadn't stopped being important to him, and probably never would.

"If you need anything, even something stupid like a bottle of milk and you don't want to go out..." She pushed a slip of paper into his hand. He glanced at it, and realising she'd written her phone number, he smiled. Rita looked surprised.

"I haven't seen you smile like that for a little while," she said quietly.

"Well," he said awkwardly, deliberating over what to say. "I have to really like a person." There was a pause. "I'll see you soon, I expect." His usual tone had returned quicker than it had disappeared.

He was nearly at his car, feeling the almost warm spring air on his face, when he heard the click of expensive high heeled shoes following him. Dylan's first thought was that it must be Zoe, so as he turned around he had to bite his tongue to stop himself telling her to stop fussing. It was Connie, looking flustered, which was a rarity. Strands of her dark brown hair had worked free of the elegant chignon at the nape of her neck, snaking like vines around her face. She was a little out of breath, and the slight smudge of blood above her right eyebrow suggested she'd just rushed from resus.

"Dylan!" she called. "Sorry, I meant to speak to you earlier, but I was pulled into resus.

"It's okay, I sort of guessed," he replied, looking from her hair to her rolled up sleeves and the mark on her forehead.

"I wanted to tell you, before you left,you're one of the most talented clinicians I've ever worked with. I'm sorry there's been so much pressure on you lately, I know there were plenty of other factors, but the stress of a place like this certainly didn't help."

"Um, thank you. I'm okay now, I'm sure, I just – I think I need to take some time off," he said, with some difficulty. "You know, to – um – just to sort things out in my head, that kind of thing." He wasn't sure why he struggled so much to say these words. It was asking for help, probably, he'd never been very good at it.

"Of course," Connie said. "You've got plenty of holidays left, so you can take at least a week, probably more, I'll check for you. I'll call in a few days, to check you're okay, and we can decide when you're going to be ready to come back." There was something soothing about Connie's way of taking control. Dylan nodded in agreement, glad of her authoritativeness for once.

Dylan drove himself home, having rejected Zoe's offer of a taxi, or waiting until the end of her shift for a lift in her car. He was perfectly fit to drive himself home, unlike several occasions recently when accepting a taxi really would have been a better option.

The boat was very, very quiet. Things were exactly as he'd left them, although of course they'd had no reason to change. His chest hurt, the most powerful ache he'd ever felt. Dervla's water bowl was half full, a few biscuits still lay in the bottom of her food bowl. Everything was so wrong without her here. It seemed stupid to have a dog bed in the corner of the room, knowing he'd never get to watch her walk in four precise circles before flopping down onto the cushion, ever again. His hands shaking, Dylan emptied the water bowl into the sink, but he could feel inexplicable anger bubbling inside him.

"IT'S NOT FAIR!" he suddenly exploded. It was lucky the bowl was made of plastic, as he launched it across the room it didn't shatter or break. It bounced off the back of the door and rolled in four circles. Dylan leant back against the kitchen counter, breathing hard. Tears were pouring down his cheeks and he could hardly breathe he was crying so hard.

He walked into his bedroom and slammed the door behind him. Dervla's lead was on the bottom of the bed, where he'd left it. It was the last straw. Dylan threw himself down on the bed, the lead wrapped around his hands like he'd never let it go.

It was the first time Dylan had ever considered turning his back on medicine altogether. He couldn't even think of going back to that place, having to answer everyone's questions about... Everything. He had thought passing out in front of them all had been his rock bottom. Not anymore.

He was barely thinking straight as he pulled his phone from his pocket. He didn't know who to call. A slip of paper flutter to the ground. For a split second, he wanted more than anything to call Rita, because she'd said "anything." She hadn't meant this. Then he thought about Zoe, who would grieve with him. And Lily, whose number he didn't know, but always knew how to say the right words to temporarily shut out the thunder clouds. And then he remembered. All three of them were mid-shift. His phone slipped from between his fingers and he heard the screen crack as it hit the wooden floor. He curled up on the bed like a child, crying until his head ached and he had no tears left.

His phone was ringing. Clearly the broken screen was the only damage done. It was Zoe. Bravely, he answered the call with two words, before hanging up.

"Please come."


	19. Chapter 19

Zoe panicked on hearing Dylan's desperate tone. When the line abruptly went dead, she ran from the staffroom to find Connie. She crashed into Max in her haste, and would have fallen, had he not caught her in the nick of time.

"Zoe, what's happening?" he said, his voice full of concern.

"I don't know, that's the problem. It's Dylan -"

"Then go," he said without hesitation. He understood that Zoe cared deeply for Dylan, and he knew the consultant had been having a difficult time of it lately. If one phone call had put Zoe's head in this much of a spin, who knew what kind of a state he could be in.

"Connie, I need to go," Zoe said quickly, having pushed into the Clinical Lead's office without knocking.

"What happened?"

"Dylan. I've got no idea. I need to go," she repeated, leaning around the door frame. Connie gestured for her to go, and listened as the click of Zoe's heels became quieter far more quickly that usual.

Zoe was terrified of what she might find as she drove to Dylan's boat. He'd sounded so broken that she had instantly regretted letting him go home by himself. It was so obvious now, in his current fragile state, of course it would hit him this hard to go home to an empty boat. She parked her car near the harbour and rummaged in her handbag. She sighed with relief as her fingers closed around a key she's meant to give back to Dylan the day after she'd moved out. _The perks of being a scatterbrain_ , she thought as she rushed to the boat.

Her hands shook as she pushed the key into the lock and let herself in.

"It's okay Dylan, I'm here – Oh my." Dylan was sitting cross legged on the kitchen floor, his hands covered in blood. Zoe slipped off her heels and charged across the boat to him. It was a pitiful sight: he'd been crying for a long time and had clearly tried to wipe his eyes and forgotten the blood on his hands. It was smeared on his cheeks and had begun to dry in the creases of his fingers. She found the culprit fairly quickly, a shattered mug on the floor beside her best friend.

"I wanted to make tea – Didn't want this to happen – I made a mess Zoe." He wasn't quite making sense, his disjointed sentences didn't sound anything like him. He looked into Zoe's eyes mournfully, and forced herself to switch into Dr Hanna. Her empathy wouldn't clean up his hands.

"Come and sit down on the sofa, can you stand up okay?" she said, taking control although it was the last thing she wanted to do, it was breaking her heart. She led him through to the living room, then returned to the kitchen. Putting the broken pieces of china in the bin, she retrieved the first aid box from under the sink and filled the washing up bowl with warm water.

Zoe knelt down in front of Dylan and gently took his left hand in both of hers. Although it made him wince in pain, she used a flannel to carefully wipe away the blood caked into his palms. His hands were tense and scared, like a child.

"You're lucky, it's only superficial really," she said quietly, trying to calm him down. "When I've cleaned the other one, I'll dress them and then we'll talk, if that's what you want." Dylan's other hand was barely cut, not like the left, so it was less painful for him when she wiped his skin. They were both silent as she gingerly wrapped his hands in soft white bandages.

"Thank you," he whispered, reaching out for the flannel to wipe his face.

"Not so fast, don't get those dressings wet," Zoe said. "I'll sort it, okay? Close your eyes." He did as he was told and Zoe wrung out the flannel before dabbing at his cheeks. The blood came off almost immediately and she left him on the sofa whilst she emptied the water down the sink and put the flannel in the washing machine. Spotting Dervla's lead beside the sink reminded her that this would be a long road.

It was four days now since the evening Dylan would remember as being his rock bottom. Four days since Zoe had sat next to him on the boat until the early hours of the morning, reminding him of everything that he'd done right, and did right every day, all of the reasons why he could never leave medicine behind.

"It doesn't matter if they ask questions, because you are strong enough to answer them," Zoe had said. "And don't forget that you've always got me to tell them where to stick their questions!"

Things wouldn't get that bad again, Dylan promised himself.

Lily had phoned twice, since that night, after begging his number from Zoe. She made sure that he wasn't in too much of a bad place. He'd forgotten to buy milk on purpose, just to give himself a reason to call Rita, because he didn't want her to think that he hadn't kept her number. He'd be lying to himself if he said it wasn't (just a little bit) because he'd wanted to see her.

It had been four days, and things were getting better.

On the fifth day, Connie phoned him, as promised, and it was nice to have a normal conversation. She asked him how things were going, of course, and he told her politely that his first therapy session had been okay. Neither of them could hold up the pleasantries forever, and Dylan broke the ice by returning her original question.

"You know how it is," she said. "It's total chaos but what's new there? We're managing well." She added the last part so that he wouldn't feel rushed to return. He saw right through it, unsurprisingly.

"So how are you really managing? Don't worry, I'm not in much of a hurry to come back. Not yet anyway." He heard an exasperated sigh and the static-like sound of Connie running a hand through her hair.

"Let's just say the locum consultant isn't quite up to your standard, shall we?" Her tone gave away exactly what she thought. "Have you had any thoughts on when you'd like to come back? You've got twenty days left this year, according to what I've got in front of me now."

"Two weeks," he said shortly.

"Are you sure? Is that going to be enough?"

"Yes. And I want to leave some spare, just in case." Connie nodded, then remembered that she was on the phone and Dylan couldn't see her.

"Okay, two weeks then," she said slowly, jotting this down on the memo pad next to the phone.

"Two weeks of peace and quiet," Dylan said. "Perfect."

After approximately seventy two hours of peace and quiet, Dylan realised that two weeks was actually quite a long time. He'd played old vinyl records he hadn't had the time to listen to in years, spent hours just reading for pleasure instead of for research. It was strange how slowly time was passing, and he hadn't yet decided whether he preferred it to the way time raced in the ED. There was a very fine line between bliss and boredom.

By early even, when the sun was beginning to slide towards the horizon, Dylan was restless. Usually he would have walked a few miles every day, but he'd been inactive for so long that he was itching to get out. He forced the reason _why_ he wasn't out walking out of his mind. _I must be crazy_ , he thought as he laced up his trainers, ready to run.

 _Definitely crazy_ , he decided half way around the park. It wasn't an unpleasant experience though, he could see why other people enjoyed it so much. He stopped at the bandstand, sitting on the steps to catch his breath and appreciate being outside again. There were a lot of other runners in the park. He listened to the steady sound of running shoes coming closer. It wasn't until they stopped right in front of him that he realised they belonged to Rita.

"Didn't expect to see you here!" she said brightly, panting a little as she sat down next to him. She sounded pleased to see him, and Dylan couldn't describe the feeling this gave him.

"I – um – didn't expect to see you here either. I don't usually run, actually, I just needed to … get out, I suppose."

"How are you doing?" Rita asked. Dylan sighed and laughed a little.

"If I had a pound for every time I'd been asked that in the last one hundred and ninety two hours." This made Rita laugh.

"A hundred and ninety two? How on earth did you work that out?"

"Eight twenty-fours," he said, not offering any further explanation. Rita smiled. She had two smiles, Dylan had noted. One for the patients she couldn't wait to see the back of. That smile never extended to her eyes and was usually accompanied by her breathing in through her nose with a hint of exasperation. The second was reserved for occasions which genuinely made her happy, when her eyes sparkled a little and she ducked her head ever so slightly. It made Dylan feel good that he'd only ever had the second smile sent his way.

"I'll be running again tomorrow, if you'd like to join me?" Rita offered. "I finish my shift at five, so, half seven maybe?"

"I'd like that," Dylan said, half-smiling.

"Me too. Half seven, back here." Dylan nodded, and smiled as he watched the short blonde nurse jog away, wishing he knew exactly the words he wanted to say to her.

 **Please leave a review to let me know what you think :)**


	20. Chapter 20

The rest of Dylan's time off passed painfully slowly, punctuated by coffee with Zoe and jogging with Rita on alternate days. He knew they'd planned this meticulously, to keep his mind away from work, among... other things, but he found that he didn't mind it too much. However much he wasn't anything near what any sane individual would call a 'people person', he couldn't deny that he'd spent every day of his working life surrounded by people, so it was bizarre to be by himself for so long. It was a relief when he realised he'd be returning to the ED the next day, although he would miss the extended periods of uninterrupted reading. Uninterrupted, that is, until each record ended and the clicking of the needle became unbearable, forcing him to his feet to slip the vinyl disc back into its paper sleeve in exchange for a new one.

The next morning he woke up early, with a feeling in the pit of his stomach akin to how he used to feel every time the first day of school rolled around. It was difficult to lay a finger one because there had never been any real cause of it (just one of the many reasons why Dylan had never put up with it and had always just pushed on with the day.) There was no conceivable cause now. It was a knot in his stomach, at least it was to begin with. By the time he was out of the shower and making a cup of coffee, the knot had spread out and ensnared every part of his body. He made himself eat a bowl of cornflakes and made himself ignore the heavy feeling in his arms. _No, don't go down this road_ , Dylan thought. _It's not going to be a difficult day, you can do this._ His phone rang, momentarily distracting him from his thoughts. It was Zoe.

"Do you need a lift this morning?" she asked, getting straight to the point because Dylan didn't tend to waste words such as 'Good morning' in phone conversations.

"Um," he replied, thinking for a moment. "Okay."

"I'll see you in half an hour then," Zoe said breezily, trying to put Dylan at ease because she knew how anxious he'd be about returning to work.

"You're too perky," he remarked. He heard Zoe sigh. She was pleased to hear him saying normal things in an almost normal voice.

"I know I am." Her smile was almost audible.

Dylan refused to admit to having butterflies in his stomach, because 'butterflies' didn't do this feeling justice. It wasn't a graceful fluttering of wings, it was more like the waves of a violent sea churning and crashing against his insides. It was far easier to pretend it wasn't happening once they reached the hospital. It all so familiar – even if the cleaners were now using a differently-scented disinfectant on the floors – that he could pretend he'd never been away.

What surprised him most was that so many people seemed to have actually noticed his absence. People kept saying nice things to him as he passed them, and he wasn't quite sure of how to react.

"Nice to have you back, Dr Keogh," Ethan said brightly in the staffroom. He was passing a cup of tea to Lily and immediately took another cup from the cupboard, to pour a cup for Dylan.

"Thank you," he replied. "It – it's nice to be back." He paused to drink some of the tea. "Um, I haven't actually seen you both together, since -" He was unwilling to say 'since it all went to pot.' "Since you got engaged," he said. _Much better choice of words Dylan, well done_ , he thought. "Congratulations."

Ethan smiled broadly. "Thank you. You'll be there, I hope? When we get married?" Dylan was a little taken aback, he wasn't sure he'd ever been good enough friends with people to be invited to their weddings, Zoe not included (and besides, would those two ever realise that's what they wanted?)

"Me?" he said, although there was no-one else in the room and clearly the question had been directed at him.

"Yes, you!" Lily said, having been quiet all this time. "It would mean an awful lot to me if you'd be there." Ethan excused himself from the room to get back to work. Dylan nodded awkwardly, touched by Lily's words. "I mean it, please come."

"Okay," Dylan said, inwardly very pleased.

Back out in the department, Rita was the next to offer her encouragement.

"It's good to see you back where you belong," she said, smiling. "I'm glad you changed your mind." During one of their runs Dylan had confided in her about what had happened on that really bad evening. It had been sort of inevitable once he'd taken the bandages off his hands: Rita had been bound to ask. It was a mark of how much he liked her as a person that he hadn't minded telling her. Exactly as Zoe had done (except a little more forcefully seeing as he hadn't been quite so fragile) she'd shot down any ideas of him throwing the towel in.

"So am I, actually. It's all noisy partygoers and pushing and pulling and a huge mess, but I wouldn't want to work anywhere else."

"Me neither," Rita said.

"Can I – can I buy you a coffee later on?" Dylan asked nervously, immediately wishing he'd stayed quiet. He'd feel a right idiot if she said no, and what if she did? She probably would, and he wouldn't blame her. That didn't stop at least half of him hoping she wouldn't say no.

"That would be great. And you don't have to look so nervous, I don't bite. I'd really like to have coffee with you."

Her smile was the highlight of his day.

The shift went better than Dylan had expected, and he couldn't help looking forward to having coffee with Rita later. He noticed that Connie had been doing her best to keep him out of resus, but by late afternoon he was missing the strange excitement of saving lives second by second. The time for passively accepting instruction was over – if nothing else it would shoe everyone that he was back to normal.

Charlie looked surprised to see him when he walked confidently walked into resus and picked up a set of patient notes.

"You're back?" he said, confused.

"Yes." Dylan looked down at the notes and then to the patient. "Deep laceration to the left arm and severe bruising to the chest and right arm. I need two units of O-neg and she needs five more of morphine. Did no-one tell you I was coming back today Charlie?"

The older nurse started on Dylan's instructions. "Yes, but I assumed Connie would want you out there, not in here," he said.

"When was I ever the one to follow all of Connie's instructions?" Dylan asked rhetorically. There wasn't a shadow of what had come before in his voice, he sounded like every other time Charlie had spoken to him in resus. He was calm, authoritative, and he had that look in his eye of trying to read a patient like a book, which is what convinced them all that he could stay.

Twenty minutes later, the young woman was wheeled out of resus to a ward. Dylan left a few minutes later, with a slight spring in his step of renewed confidence. Returning to his office reluctantly (he didn't exactly want to be filing paperwork on his first day back, and it was certain there would be a lot) he skimmed though the pile of notes on his desk, pleasantly surprised. A smile spread across his face and he stared at the ceiling in disbelief. Someone had ordered them all already: all he needed to do was put them where they needed to be.

There was a knock at the door.

"Come in," Dylan called, facing away from the door and flicking through the notes again. He turned around, still smiling, and saw the Rita's petite form leaning on the door frame. "Hi Rita."

"Hi, has it been a good shift?" she asked.

"Not bad, it was good to be back in resus again," he said.

"Don't let Connie hear you say that, she was all set to keep you out of there until tomorrow. And give it a couple of days and you won't be saying that!" They laughed.

"Well we'll just have to keep it between us then, won't we? And hope that no-one from in resus blows my cover," he said.

"Let's hope. Have you had anything to eat recently?" she asked, knowing that if he'd been distracted and busy the answer would be no.

"No, not for a while. Shall we go for that coffee now?" Rita nodded in response, and they headed for the coffee shop, Dylan still wondering who it was that had ordered his notes for him.

 **Please leave a review to let me know what you think :D**


	21. Chapter 21

**I hope you like this chapter, I've had the idea for the ending for a long time (thank you to theverystuffoflife for letting me run this past you, and for liking the idea in the first place!) Let me know what you think, I hope it's not out of character or anything :)**

Connie did find out about Dylan being in resus, but she wasn't concerned. She knew she couldn't have stopped him, even if she'd been there, and if he felt like he was ready to pick up exactly where he left off, there was no need to stop him.

Lily and Ethan were still on a high, the novelty of being engaged having not worn off, even a month later. But Lily took a phone call one morning that threatened to ruin it all. She returned to the living room white as a sheet, wringing her hands anxiously.

"Lily, what's happened?" Ethan said, motioning for her to sit down on the sofa with him. Tears glistening at the corners of her eyes, she nodded and sat down, leaning her head onto his chest.

"I'm fine, we need to be in work in half an hour, so we can talk about this later."

"No, Lily, we won't be that late, you need to tell me. You'll have an awful day if you're keeping something bottled up all day," Ethan reasoned.

"Okay. That was my dad on the phone, and – I can't believe that I have to say this. He's not coming to the wedding. Mum won't come without him, I know it, so neither of my parents are coming to our wedding. I'm sorry Ethan." Her voice was raw with emotion. Ethan stroked her hair gently, so as not to mess up the neatly fastened bun at the back of her head.

"It's because of me, isn't it?" Lily was silent for a few seconds, before reluctantly nodding into Ethan's shirt.

"My parents always wanted me to work hard and become a consultant, and marry another doctor. But one who was Asian like us. I thought they'd change their minds if they realised how happy you make me, and you do. Every second I spend with you is a second enhanced a thousand times." She looked up and kissed his neck, although her cheeks were damp with tears. Lily took a deep breath, composing herself. When she spoke again, she was steady, like she'd steeled herself and was determined not to cry any more. "But what's one more reason, when they're already certain they won't be proud of me?"

"I'm sorry I couldn't make them happy. If you want to wait to get married, see if they'll calm down and see us as we are -"

"I don't want to wait," Lily said quickly. "Why on earth would I ever want to wait? I love you, Ethan, more than I know how to say, and nothing my parents say is going to change that. You make _me_ happy, and that's what matters to me, not whether they see that you do." She sat up, and Ethan immediately pulled her into a gently romantic kiss. Their lips were warm and fitted together like two pieces of a jigsaw puzzle.

They were only a few minutes late, but Connie would have confronted them for it all the same, had she not seen the way in which they entered the department. Ethan had his arm around his fiancée, which was nothing unusual, but pair of them seemed... different somehow. Lily's eyes were rimmed with red and she looked shaken. Connie knew she had to intervene.

Ethan launched into apologies immediately when Connie approached them, but she held up her hand to stop him.

"It's fine, on this occasion I'll overlook your lateness. Lily, are you okay?"

"Yes, I just had a bit of a shock this morning. My eyes stay red for ages when I've cried, I'm okay now, I promise," Lily said, very convincingly except for the nearly inaudible shake in her voice.

"I'm sure you are Lily, but for my own peace of mind would you please take some time to get your head together, gather your thoughts and make sure you're completely ready for your shift?" Connie was trying her level best not to be overbearing, or to sound like she didn't believe what Lily was saying (although there was a part of her that didn't.)

"Oh, yes, okay," Lily said, knowing it would make her day infinitely easier if she agreed.

Towards lunchtime, Lily had returned to the staffroom for the start of her lunch break. In anticipation of everyone else arriving shortly, she filled the kettle and set it to boil. She pulled a random mix of mugs from the cupboard and tried to match them all to their owner. Dropping tea bags into roughly half of them, she spooned instant coffee into the rest but left the sugar – they could deal with that themselves, people tended to be extremely picky where that was concerned. The kettle was still only half boiled. The staffroom was quiet, and Lily was deeply absorbed in her thoughts.

There had never been a point in her life when her parents had even suggested that they were proud of her. She was the most hard-working student in her cohort by a mile, and yet even when she'd graduated with the best degree she could have achieved under the circumstances, they merely asked how long it would be before she reached the next goal on her life plan. 'The circumstances' being the fact she'd sacrificed everything in her final few months of university, pushing away the few friends she'd worked so hard to gain, and spending long, long nights in the library, studying and poring over new books until her eyes stung. She'd worked to a point of total exhaustion, but her parents had offered no sympathy or advice other than to 'work through it.' And now, the one time she really wanted her parents' approval, they'd managed to smother any excitement she'd had. Lily was living her life, and becoming everything she'd ever wanted to be. But her parents didn't want to be a part of it, and that hurt.

Lily clapped a hand over her mouth to stifle the gasp that had escaped in stunned humiliation. She'd have no-one to give her away. She knew there were tears spilling onto her cheeks but she didn't care.

The kettle finally boiled, and she picked it up to begin poring cups of tea and coffee for the others. But her thoughts were elsewhere and she wasn't concentrating on holding it securely. It slipped from her grasp and bounced off the counter, sending scalding hot water all over her hands. Lily howled in pain and let the kettle fall to the floor with a dull crash. She held her hands out in front of her and just stared at the scalded red skin.

Ethan came skidding into the room, having hear Lily's scream, and was greeting by the sight of her turning her hands over in front of her, her eyes wide, whimpering in pain. He saw the kettle and the puddle of still-steaming water and steered Lily over to the sink. He turned the cold tap on and pushed her hands under the stream of water, although she let out a pained gasp as he did so.

"Hey, try and calm down for me, it's going to be okay," he said, standing behind her as he held her wrists, so as to keep his arms around her.

"It's hurts, it's throbbing so much," she sobbed, appreciative of the way he was holding her.

"I know, and I can get you some pain relief when we've cooled the burns down, okay? I'm going to stand here with you, then we're going to go to a cubicle where I can put dressings on your hands and get some painkillers into you. But we need to keep your hands under the water for a little while yet, you know the procedure," Ethan said, slipping into doctor-mode to explain everything slowly in an effort to keep her calm.

Ten minutes later he led her into an empty cubicle, and began to carefully clean Lily's burns. Zoe joined them a few minutes later to help Ethan, and to see what had happened.

"What have we got here?" she said, pulling on a pair of latex gloves and examining Lily's left hand delicately.

"I dropped the kettle, it's not a big deal," Lily protested.

"Objection," Ethan said at once. "I'd call it a pretty big deal. Your left hand took the brunt of it, you'll be pleased to hear, but although it's mainly first degree, there's some partial thickness burning between your fingers and along the top of your left hand."

"Definitely a big deal," Zoe agreed. "What happened?"

"I told you, I slipped, I dropped the kettle," Lily said, feeling very stupid as two of the people she like the most in the department took one of her hands each and began to apply coverings to the worst areas. "Can I please get some pain relief now?" she asked impatiently. Her hands were throbbing still, despite the cold water.

"Not quite the worst patient I've ever had, but for a doctor you're not doing too bad!" Zoe laughed. "I can get you some morphine if you want it -"

"No. I hate it, it makes my head all fuzzy, can I just get some ibuprofen?"

"I can see exactly where you're going with this, Lily," Ethan interrupted. "You're thinking if you don't take the morphine you'll be able to go back to work later."

"That's not going to happen, you'll need to take the rest of the week off, at least, to let these hands start to heal," Zoe said.

"Fine," Lily sighed. "But don't dose me up too much, I meant it about making my head feel fuzzy."

"Five of morphine coming up, m'lady," Ethan said, smiling and kissing Lily's temple. She smiled, embarrassed.

Dylan was passing through cubicles and thought he was seeing things. He did a double take, but no, she was definitely there.

"What on earth have you done?" he asked Lily, who was still sitting on the bed, because Zoe and Ethan wouldn't let her go anywhere else yet.

"Um," she hesitated. "Don't laugh."

"No laughing. But I won't promise, because it sounds like you're about to say you did something really stupid to merit being here," Dylan replied sarcastically.

"I dropped the kettle," Lily muttered. "First degree burns mostly but some partial thickness."

"Well if you're going to do it, do it properly," Dylan said, cracking a smile. "How did you, of all people, manage to drop the kettle?"

"I wasn't thinking straight, I was... somewhat distracted."

"Go on? I think you've listened to me enough for me to return the favour," Dylan said, sounding kind in a way he saved for precious few people.

"My dad refuses to come to my wedding, because Ethan's not... because he's not Asian like us. I found out this morning, and I realised just before I dropped the kettle -" Lily stopped short of saying it, because she was about to do something she'd never thought she'd do. "I realised I didn't have anyone to give me away."

"I'm sorry about that," Dylan said, genuinely sympathetic.

"Can I ask you something? Just let me finish, please, before you say anything."

"Shoot."

"Well, I'd call you a very close friend of mine, by now, after all the crazy stuff we've been through together."

"Crazy is one word for it," he said. "Sorry, carry on."

"And although we don't talk about it, we both know, and everyone in this place knows that you saved my life, right?" Dylan looked away, but still nodded. "I had a thought, when I was in the staffroom, would you – do you think you'd mind giving me away?"

Dylan's expression was priceless.

"I don't know what to say, are you sure?"

"I'm absolutely sure. I can't think of anyone else I'd want to ask, so if you say no, I'm sort of in a mess, I mean there's plenty of time, but even so, I'd really like you to."

"How could I possibly resist an offer like 'If you say no, I'm sort of in a mess'? Of course I'll do it Lily."


	22. Chapter 22

**I hope you like this chapter, I was quite pleased with the ending parts so let me know what you think! (Also apologies to Dyfty shippers, I like that ship but they're not happening in this story!)**

When Lily was discharged, Zoe convinced her to wait in the staffroom rather than the on-call room.

"You know the procedure Lily," she said. "It's the morphine you need to be around people for a while, just in case you have a reaction to it. And we can't keep an eye on you if you're hidden away in the on-call room. As much as I can understand its appeal, you need to stay around here, okay?"

Dylan was sorting through his emails (which had been massively neglected of late) when Rita knocked tentatively at his office door. He looked up from the computer screen and smiled.

"You smile a lot more now," she said as she came in, a pile of papers and folders balanced precariously in her arms.

"Well, I've got more reasons to smile, I suppose," he replied, thinking of Lily's wedding, and the fact she really thought that highly of him.

"Things really are better for you now, aren't they?"

"Yes, they really are," he said thoughtfully. He saw the file at the bottom of the stack begin to slip before Rita noticed it, and almost jumped the desk in his rush to stop the pile toppling completely. If anyone asked, it was to stop the loose papers making a mess in his almost-tidy office. It was a second before he realised he was brushing against her arm as he re-balanced the stack, and he pulled his hand away sharply. _Oh stop it,_ he thought, _it's not as though you're forbidden to touch her._

"Thanks," Rita said, grateful for his help. She'd felt her heart speed up as his hand touched her arm.

"What can I do for you Rita? I mean, now I've saved you from re-sorting all those notes?' he said sarcastically, making Rita laugh. "Wait, Connie's not looking for me is she? I was only with Lily in cubicles for a moment -"

"Don't panic, she's not. And is Lily okay? I heard about the kettle incident," Rita said.

"She's fine, thank goodness. It could have been much worse."

"I wanted to ask a favour actually. Connie's on my case, I should have given in a load of paperwork yesterday and everyone's being loud outside my office. There's a couple of extremely rowdy teenagers trying to tear each other to shreds."

"Nothing the tiny but terrifying Clinical Nurse Manager can't handle, I'm sure," Dylan joked.

"I tried!" Rita retorted. "I tried, but they were having none of it. I left Lofty and Cal trying to sort them out."

"And I'm sure they'll be ever so successful," Dylan said drily.

"I wondered, if it's okay with you of course, if you'd let me sort this lot out in here. It's a lot quieter, and -"

"And Connie won't be able to find you." Dylan finished her sentence expertly.

"Well there is always that," she said, hoping that Dylan would say yes, and let her stay in his office.

"Make yourself at home," he said. "You're not wrong that it's quiet in here, there's a reason I don't spend many breaks in the staffroom!"

Rita liked Dylan's office. Somehow it wasn't quite as clinical as her own. A bookshelf along one wall held the biggest collection of books she'd ever seen in an office (although in truth this was only a fraction of the number of books he actually owned, they had worked their way into every room on the boat.) A shelf stacked with neatly filed medical journals sat underneath one crammed with folders of paperwork. It was obvious that the magazine boxes full of journal saw more attention that the files of notes.

Rita liked Dylan, although she wasn't about to say so. He wasn't one to waste words and would probably tell her straight that they were 'just friends.' Or worse, if he was feeling particularly cutting, 'just colleagues.' But she couldn't deny, and surely neither could he, that there was _something_ between them. There were very few people for whom he saved his smiles, and even fewer that he would willingly buy a coffee for. And there wasn't a single person in the ED who made her feel the way he did when he entered a room.

Connie allowed Ethan to finish his shift an hour or so early, to take Lily home. He arrived in the staffroom and found her wearing a pair of headphones, listening to something through her phone. She took them off her ears as he approached her, and explained what she was doing.

"I was bored, but my hands hurt too much to read. I did try, but I can't hold a book and my dexterity has gone to the dogs. I can't move my fingers enough to turn the pages."

"That doesn't explain the headphones," Ethan pointed out, as he watched Lily try to wrap up the wire of the headphones, with little success. "Here, let me do that." He took them from her weak grasp and wrapped the cord around his hand before slipping it onto to headphones.

"They're Dylan's, he let me borrow them and suggested I try and find an audio book," she said.

"That makes more sense. Mrs Beauchamp let me off early to take you home, so do you want to get your stuff – well, tell me what you need, so I can get it for you, at least." He looked at Lily, who had suddenly looked down at her lap in embarrassment. "What?" he asked, confused.

"Well, I need to change out of my scrubs, but I won't be able to do up the buttons on my blouse, or the zip on my jeans, or untie my laces -"

"Lily, we're getting married in September."

"Oh give over, that's not what I meant at all!" she said, nudging him with her elbow in place of being able to playfully slap him with her hands. "I'm fine with you seeing me, but I feel like a child, asking you to help me get dressed, again. I thought we were done with that, after I recovered from the amputation."

This was one of the reasons she loved Ethan so much. They barely had to speak in full sentences, and whole question and answer pairs were few and far between, because they could just read each other so easily. Ethan kissed her lips, putting one hand on the back of her neck. Lily wrapped her arms around him, somewhat awkwardly because of her hands.

"Well, I suppose I get to help you all over again," he said, smiling broadly and tucking a strand of Lily's hair back behind her ear. "And just like last time, I honestly don't mind. I love you."  
"Love you too."

"I take it you don't need me to carry you to the lockers?" Ethan asked jokingly.

"I only burned my hands, muppet," Lily laughed. "I think I might just manage to walk."

"Your choice, your choice!" Ethan said.

Lily directed him as to what she needed from her locker, and rolled her eyes like crazy when he scooped her up off the ground to carry her to the on-call room.

"For goodness' sake Ethan!" she said, but she wasn't angry. She rested her head on his shoulder and tried not to be embarrassed as they walked past everyone. He set her down on the bed in the on-call room, smiling triumphantly. Lily sighed, and pretended not to watch as he changed out of his own scrubs first, and into a checked shirt and jeans. He left his cardigan on the bed: it was almost summer now, and too warm for it.

"My turn," Lily said, trying to wriggle out of her scrub trousers unsuccessfully.

"You might need to take your trainers off first," Ethan suggested, kneeling in front of her and untying the laces. He slid the trousers down her legs and pulled her jeans slowly up over her prosthetic foot. "You'll have to excuse me, I'm clearly not very good at this."

"You're doing just fine," Lily said. It was considerably more awkward, to sit in such a way that allowed Ethan to be able to zip and button up her jeans, but somehow they managed it, even if they did fall about laughing and have to stop to take a breath half-way through. Lily put her arms up and Ethan pulled the turquoise scrub shirt up over her head, leaving her sitting on the bed in just her bra and jeans. Ethan paused a moment before picking up the white vest top Lily had worn under her blouse that morning.

"Come on Ethan, I'm getting kind of cold," Lily said. "And for God's sake, stop looking! We're at work still, even if we are hidden away in here."

"Sorry, I still can't quite believe I get to wake up next to you for the rest of my life." Ethan blushed, but Lily outdid him, two pink spots on her cheeks spreading out and turning cherry red.

"Well," she said, mildly embarrassed but extremely flattered. "Thank you."

"You are so welcome," Ethan replied, before kissing her collarbone very lightly and slipping the vest top over her head.

"Your hands are cold," Lily remarked.

"How about now?" Ethan said, putting his palms flat against her shoulder blades, making her squeal in shock. They collapsed into a heap of giggles again.

Meanwhile, Zoe walked past Dylan's office and glanced in through the blinds. Dylan and Rita were laughing. It surprised her a little, to see Dylan really laughing for once, but she knew how much Rita meant to him, even if he hadn't realised it for himself yet. Zoe wondered if he knew he was falling in love with the little blonde nurse.


	23. Chapter 23

**Let me know what you think, I hope you like it x**

It was summer, and things were getting better. Dylan was spending more time with Rita, which was doing them both good, seeing as a lot of the time they spent together, out of the ED, was jogging in the park. They often spent their breaks together too, and it surprised Dylan how much he liked to share his free time with her, when usually he would have been quite content with his own company.

Lily and Ethan were trying to keep a lid of their excitement, but it was proving unsuccessful as their wedding drew closer. Lily, having chosen her dress, had been trying to teach herself to walk in heels again, which usually ended with Ethan catching her at the end of the kitchen.

"This is probably going to end really badly!" she laughed, leaning into his arms. He kissed the top of her head.

"You know, I don't mind one little bit if you don't wear heels."

"I know you don't, but it's just a... I don't know, like a marker for me, to know that I can walk in heels again. I want to do it, for me." Lily slipped out of the white satin shoes, held them in her hands and just looked at them. Ethan reached out and stroked them with his thumb.

"Admittedly, they're very beautiful, and believe me when I say nothing could make me happier than to see you walk down the aisle, knowing that you'd worked so hard to do it on your terms, exactly as you wanted to. But for the record, I think you'll look stunning, even if you decide to walk barefoot."

"Which I definitely won't be doing, I'll look bizarre," Lily said. She bit her lip and put the shoes back into the box very slowly, wrapping them back in their tissue paper very deliberately. She didn't quite meet Ethan's eye when she turned back to face him. She let her hair fall over her shoulders, hiding behind it like she used to do in high school. Ethan pulled her towards him in a hug and rocked her a little.

"You look worried, you're biting your lip and you haven't done that for ages," he said, letting Lily rest her head on his shoulder.

"I'm not worried," she insisted. "I just never told you, I found who's going to give me away, and I feel bad for keeping it from you for so long."

"Well don't, because I'd only be upset if you didn't have anyone to walk you down the aisle. Who though – did you parents come around to my irresistible charm at last?" he joked.

"I wish. No, I actually asked Dylan, that day I burned my hands. You don't mind, do you, that I didn't tell you it was him, or -"

"You babble worse than me when you're nervous, have you ever noticed that?" Ethan laughed. "Why on earth would I mind? You two have been through an awful lot, and I can't imagine anyone else giving you away, I really can't." He was really pleased. Lily and Dylan had helped each other through some of the hardest parts of their lives, so why shouldn't he be a part of the biggest day of their lives?

"You're amazing." Lily knew this was a huge understatement, but she hoped her kiss was enough to make up for it..

"That's another reason to keep trying with the heels, then," Ethan added, and Lily rolled her eyes, correctly guessing what he was about to say. "Because Dylan is quite tall, and you're quite... not."

Lily pushed him playfully and kissed him again, failing to hold in the smile which was forcing her lips apart. She stroked the baby hairs and the nape of his neck, and felt his hands fall gently to her waist.

The next day, back in the ED, Dylan was in his office when his chest began to tighten painfully. He rubbed his chest and frowned. He gripped the edge of the desk and tried to breathe smoothly, but there wasn't enough oxygen in the air. Dylan felt his breathing get faster, and his mind moved closer to a seven than he'd been since Ethan had proposed to Lily. This wasn't fair, he was done with this, why wasn't it gone? It didn't need to be a part of his life any more. He put his head on his arms, resting on the desk, feeling the anxiety rush through him.

A knock at the door forced Dylan to look up at once, racking his brains for a reason, an excuse, a cover-up, anything.

"Come in," he said, trying not to sound breathless. But her instantly relaxed (as much as he could, given the circumstances) when he realised it was Lily stepping into the office. He put his head back down on the desk.

"I was just passing, and you didn't look so good," she explained. "Can I help?" Dylan sighed, the sound muffled by his face being buried in his arms.

"I thought I'd never – have to go through – this – again. I thought – this – was – over," he said, his sentences punctuated by irregular intakes of breath. Lily immediately tried to close the blinds, knowing how embarrassed the consultant had been, last time things had gone wrong.

"Broken. Should – Should have had them – fixed," he said, with some difficulty now. Lily could hear emotion rising in his strained tones: he was panicking more now and the humiliation was forcing unwanted tears from his eyes.

"Okay." Lily thought for a moment, before locking the door and switching the harsh ceiling light off. She headed behind Dylan's desk. "Let's sit here, on the floor then. They won't see us, and they'll think the office is empty." She waited for Dylan to stand up, slowly, because he was a bit dizzy now, then she pushed his chair under the desk. Lily sat with her back against the wall, with her knees drawn up to her chest, and Dylan followed suit. He looked at her, feeling completely useless.

"Stop thinking I'm passing judgement," Lily said quietly. "I think we're way past me explaining that I'm not, never have done and never will do." Dylan rolled his eyes. "Follow my breathing, okay? Don't think about anything else. Just follow my breathing, because you know you're stronger than every feeling that's trying to crush you right now."

They sat quietly while Dylan slowly took back control. When he was no longer fighting against his panic attack, Lily struck up a conversation, as she had done last time, in an effort to distract him.

"Do you want to talk about this one?" she asked, conscious that this was his first for a long time.

"My obvious answer is no, but I don't really mean it. Why now? I swear there was no trigger at all, it just happened and I couldn't make it stop." Dylan leant back against the wall, staring at the ceiling with a frustrated expression.

"Don't be angry with yourself, please," Lily said patiently. "Sometimes there isn't a reason. I'm sure you don't need me to call Mr Self down here to tell you that the brain is ridiculously complex."

"Don't even think about bringing him into this situation. I won't have him polluting the air in my office." Lily smiled as Dylan spoke with so much conviction. She'd succeeded – in making a controversial comment like that, Dylan had been momentarily distracted. Lily mentally high-fived herself.

"How have your therapy sessions been going? You've never mentioned them."

"I'm still going, if that's what you're asking," Dylan replied.

"It wasn't, but I'm glad."

"They're okay, I just don't feel like I'm getting a lot out of them if I'm honest."  
"Don't think like that. It's been ages since this happened, and you've not lost a patient recently either. You're doing brilliantly." she added, knowing that this meant more to Dylan than most other things. "And to cheer you up a bit, just keep in mind the infinite number of times I've fallen over this week, learning to walk in heels again, just so I don't look like a munchkin when you give me away."


	24. Chapter 24

**A shorter chapter than usual tonight, but I wanted to get something uploaded before school tomorrow. The amount of work this year is unreal, so it's unlikely I'll be uploading during the week. I hope you enjoy it regardless, please leave a review and let me know :)**

Daylight was beginning to fade and the temperature was slowly dropping. The sky was a very slight grey and a gentle breeze ruffled Rita's hair as she and Dylan walked home after their shifts.

"I like this weather," he said absent-mindedly.

"Really? I prefer the sunshine, at least then you can pretend it's not cold." Rita pulled her jacket around her. Dylan wanted to put his arm around her more than anything else, but he didn't know if she'd think he was being weird, so he kept his hands in his pockets.

"Yes, Really. Everything looks brighter against a grey sky, when the light's just going down. It's my favourite, except for snow. I love snow." The last sentence was almost wistful, and Rita could detect a little nostalgia in his voice.

"I like snow too, but only to look at. It's so cold, and all it does is make life difficult for us at work."

"Never had you down as a cynic, Sister Freeman!" Dylan joked. "I mean that I love snow when I don't have to pick up the pieces. Walking in deep snow is a pleasure like no other." He was silent for a moment, considering what he was about to say.

"I was in foster care, for a little while, when I was a child. Well, teenager. It wasn't ideal, obviously, but they were decent people, you know? They paid for me to go skiing one year, with school. It was amazing. The outfits, less so, this was probably the mid-nineties – I don't think any photographs survived, thank goodness." Rita was stunned that Dylan trusted her enough to share something like this.

"I didn't know, I'm sorry," she said, not knowing what to say at all.

"Don't be," Dylan said quickly. "I've put it all behind me now. And they were genuinely very nice to me. They taught me to work hard, and they encouraged me to have aspirations. If it wasn't for them I'd never have fallen back in love with medicine."

"Back in love?" she repeated. "I don't mean to pry, you don't have to say," she added at once, not wanting him to feel pushed to talk.

"Let's just say my father didn't quite approve of his eight year old son having designs of being a consultant, and leave it there. But my foster parents were a teacher and a dentist, both professionals who nurtured the part of me that wanted to be as far from my father as humanly possible. They put the part back in that he'd tried to stamp out." They were both silent, then Rita spoke.

"Then I suppose I have a lot to thank them for. I hardly think we'd be in this situation if you'd never become a doctor."

"Probably not, but I'm not a particularly big believer in all of that _paths crossing for a reason_."

"Never had you down as a cynic, Dr Keogh!" Rita retorted, spinning his words against him. "It really doesn't work as well the other way around, does it!" Dylan shook his head, laughing. Rita stopped suddenly, and Dylan turned to look at her.

"Are you okay?" he asked, concerned.

"Just fine." She paused a moment. "Dylan, I've been trying to work out how to ask this all the way home. I can't make it sound nice in my head, you'll have to excuse me while I just say it clearly instead. Will you be my – Will you come with me to Lily and Ethan's wedding?" Dylan's eyes widened in surprise.

"Like as your date?"

"Yes. I was going to ask that straight out, but I thought you might say no."

"Try me," Dylan replied, teasing her. Rita rolled her eyes and sighed.

"Dylan, you're the most annoying little man I've ever come across, you know that, right?" she asked lightly.

"Less of the little, how tall are you exactly?"

"Five foot two and one eighth. The eighth is extremely important!" They were both laughing now, tears forming at the corners of Rita's eyes.

"Crucial," Dylan remarked sarcastically. Rita drew herself up to her full five-foot-two-and-one-eighth height.

"Dylan, will you be my date to Lily and Ethan's wedding?"

"I might have to think about it," he said, his expression completely deadpan. Rita slapped his arm.

"You drew it all out, just to say that?" she said, more than a little disgruntled.

"No, no, really I didn't mean it like that." _Nice job Dylan, you really messed that up_ , he thought. "I just – I – I think it might be a bit difficult because Lily asked me to give her away, and I don't know what I'm meant to be doing or anything -"

"Stop babbling, Dylan, it's painful," Rita said, her smile having returned. "That's really amazing news!" She felt embarrassed for having made him feel bad, and for hitting him, although it hadn't been that hard.

"She must be crazy, I don't know why she'd pick me. There are plenty of far more worthy figures floating around the department."  
If you really believe that she'd want anyone else, you're mad. She asked you because she doesn't want a 'far more worthy figure'. She wants _you_ to give her away, and you should be honoured to be a part of this with her. You mean the world to her, and from what we've talked about before now, she means rather a lot to you too. Don't let her down, Dylan. Be brave, and believe in yourself for once."

"You give a better pep talk than Charlie," Dylan said. "You know what, I don't even care if it'll be a mess on the day. I want to go with you."

He hadn't seen Rita smile like that for a while, especially not at something he'd said. It made him happy.


	25. Chapter 25

Dylan was about to invite Rita into the boat for coffee, when his phone rang. He checked the caller ID and frowned in confusion.

"What's up?" Rita asked.

"It's Lily," he said, his eyebrows still furrowed. "She never phones, I don't know – I'd better answer it, I'm sorry," he said apologetically. Rita gestured for him to go ahead. It would give her a few minutes to get her head together, at least.

"Dylan? It's me," Lily said shyly down the phone. She sounded shaken.

"I know," he replied. "Caller ID."

"Please don't, I can't do your sarcasm right now. I'm sorry, I know it's late, but I – I haven't left the ED yet – I'm – I -" She was stammering over the words, her voice cracking with every syllable. "I need to talk to someone, and I – I didn't know who else to call." Dylan was about to ask why Ethan wasn't with her, but stopped himself. Lily's first port of call was _always_ Ethan. The fact she felt she couldn't talk to her fiancé spoke volumes, and made Dylan bit his tongue to suppress his deep sarcastic streak.

"Do you need me to come and get you, or can you walk down to the harbour?" he asked, genuinely concerned for her by this point. Lily paused, and Dylan could see Rita raising her eyebrows in equal concern, even though she could only hear half of the conversation.

"I don't know," the junior doctor whispered, almost inaudibly, which suggested she was in the staffroom and was desperate not to be overheard..

"Then don't even think about it. I'm about to get in the car, give me five minutes, ten at the very most."

"Thank you," she said, helpless and dangerously close to tears.

"I'm sorry Rita, I really have to go. I don't know what's happening exactly, but Lily's in a state and I'd be a horrible person for not going, after all the times she's sat and listening to me. Whatever's happened, she's not going home to talk to Ethan. I've – um, really enjoyed this walk with you though," he added, to make sure she knew it for sure.

"Me too. And don't worry, I get it. Give Lily my love," she said before heading home.

Dylan breezed through the department with the excuse that he'd gotten all the way home before realised he'd left important notes behind. Lily's eyes were swollen and red as they left the department in silence. They didn't speak a;; the way back to the boat. Dylan looked over to her occasionally as he drove, but she never returned his glances, instead gazing blankly out of the passenger side window, rubbing the fingertips of her left hand over her bottom lip. She had one leg tightly crossed over the other, and her right arm supported the left. She looked as though she was trying to make herself as small as possible, like she was tying herself in knots in more ways than one.

"Here we are, all aboard," Dylan said lightly when they arrived. Normally this would have raised at least a small smile from Lily, but she barely reacted at all. When they were inside, he gestured for her to sit down, before putting the kettle on. He didn't try to initiate the conversation until he'd set two mugs and a packet of biscuits on the coffee table.

"Hit me with it," he said. "You know what whatever it is, it isn't going to shock me, not really, and I fee like I owe it to you to let you vent whatever's going wrong." Dylan was stunned by the parallels he could draw between this conversation and the one which had brought them to this point in the first place, all those months ago when Lily had found him in the on-call room.

"But – I feel like if I say it, it becomes more real, and I don't want that to happen because everyone will hate me. I've been trying to hold it together over this for so long, and if I finally say it out loud, I have to stop trying to pretend nothing's wrong."

"Lily, if there's something wrong, I can help, maybe, or I can find someone who can do a better job of it than I can." Lily put her cup of tea back on the table, choking back tears. Dylan put his arm around her and she cried into his shoulder like a child. _This is bizarre_ , Dylan thought. They'd never had a touchy-feely, emotional kind of friendship, but every now and then, wham! Something came up that forced them to be. It was a marker of how close they'd become as friends, that neither of them minded dropping their facades to this end. After a while, Lily sat up, seeming embarrassed by her blatant show of emotion. She wiped her eyes with her cardigan sleeves, which had been pulled down over her hands since before they'd left the hospital. She opened her mouth to speak, but Dylan cut across her.

"Don't apologise," he interjected. "But please, tell me what's going on, I hate seeing anyone like this, and of all people I know you don't deserve it."

"I do! I absolutely deserve to feel this bad." She put a hand over her mouth, as if trying to stop the words escaping. She took a deep breath through her nose, and dropped her hands to her lap, where they resumed their familiar position, knotted together anxiously. This had been haunting her for days, weeks even.

"I don't think I can get married."

Whatever Dylan had been expecting, it absolutely had not been this.

"This is about your dad, isn't it?" he asked, trying to stay level-headed despite the fact he could feel the beginnings of anger, brewing deep inside him. He hated the fact that his father has been able to leave such a negative mark on his life, and Lily didn't deserve to have the same kind of impact on her from her own father. Lily nodded slowly.

"He's never been able to look at me and tell me I've done well, or I'm doing the right thing. Ethan makes me happy, but I'm terrified that if I marry him I'm going to drive a wedge between myself and my family. I want to get married, but I don't think I can."

"Don't you dare let him get to you like this, Lily," Dylan said strongly. "You deserve to be happy, and if that means cutting out someone who's never made you happy, I know it's not the answer that you want, but so what?" Dylan was trying to figure out how to explain himself without sounding like he was trying to win first prize in the "Who's got the worst father" competition.

"I don't know what answer I want!" Lily said in despair. "I just want – to not _need_ an answer, I wish that none of this was a problem. If my parents weren't so strict about me being _supposed_ to marry someone Asian like us..."

"Don't wish you were different. You shouldn't have to want to be someone you're not, just to be happy." He paused. "It's not so bad, having a parent-less wedding, you know."

As his words sunk in, and she realised what he was getting at, Lily's jaw dropped.

"My father was an alcoholic cheat, a repulsive person. He hated that I worked hard and wanted to do everything in my power to do better than he had done. He was never proud of me, either, and there wasn't a single day I spent in his company that made me happy to be myself. I was put into care when I was a teenager and that was the first time that I learnt it was acceptable to be ambitious."

"I'm sorry, I didn't know," Lily said. "But that doesn't fill the gaping chasm you just created. You were married?"

"Yes. It was a long time ago, and it didn't end well. I didn't even tell my father I was getting married. I wouldn't have wanted him there. But it didn't stop me feeling pretty useless. I may not have wanted _him_ personally, but that doesn't mean I didn't want a father. It took a long time for me to come to terms with the fact that I didn't need his approval to make my own decisions."

"Anyway," he went on, changing the subject, "Do you mind if I ask why you didn't want to tell Ethan this? I would have thought he'd be the first one to tell if you didn't want to get married, you know, the one you were meant to be marrying!"

"Oh shut up," Lily said, smiling at last. "I couldn't tell him until I'd ironed out the screwed up pile of thoughts in my head, because I know him too well. He'd call it all off until I was ready. He wouldn't let me go ahead with it until I was sure it was what I wanted."

"Which is fair enough. He only looks out for you so much because he cares," Dylan said wisely.

"But I don't want to lose him. He's the best thing that's ever happened to me and I don't want anything to come between us. I couldn't live with myself, if I knew that my stupid family were going to stop us being together."

"Then don't let them. Anyone could tell you that you're making the right decision, because you love each other. If you want my honest opinion, which I assume is why you called in the first place, then I think you should get married. What will you regret more on your deathbed? Ignoring your father, or not taking the opportunity of a lifetime when it was waved in your direction?"

Lily sighed. "Still up for giving me away then?"

 **Thanks for reading, as always I'm really grateful. Please leave me review, let me know what you think :)**


	26. Chapter 26

**Quite a short chapter tonight, sorry! It's the last one before the wedding though (which may be the last chapter - not sure if I'll have to split it into two yet!) I hope you enjoy it, it's just Lily/Ethan fluff but it serves a purpose (I hope!)**

It was the night before the wedding. Lily and Ethan were watching a film, curled around each other on the sofa. They'd decided to do things on their own terms – instead of being separate the night before the service, they wouldn't go their separate ways until the next morning. Lily had butterflies in her stomach, ten million tiny wings fluttering non-stop.

"This is it," Ethan said. "This time tomorrow -"

"We'll be watching your brother get very drunk and try to convince you that tequila is a good idea," Lily said, laughing.

"And I'll be vehemently refusing, watching my glass like a hawk all evening. I want to remember every second of our wedding day."

"Me too," Lily agreed, kissing his cheek softly. "I know we said we'd do presents in the morning, but this is worse than Christmas! Is there a serious rule that says we _have_ to wait?"

"I don't think so, and even if there was, we're not children, we're perfectly capable of making grown-up decisions."

"Speak for yourself, I had Coco Pops for breakfast!"

"The wait had been badgering me for days though, let's do it."

Upstairs, Lily sat on the bed and pulled a black box from the drawer in her bedside cabinet. Ethan was in the spare room, apparently rearranging the furniture, from the noise he was making. At last, he put his head around the door.

"Close your eyes," he said, a broad grin on his face. Lily did as she was told, very uncertainly. She heard Ethan put a box on the floor next to the bed, and felt him sit down next to her.

With her eyes still shut, she said, "Can I go first? I feel like your present's going to be miles better than mine."

"I'm sure it'll be just fine, but by all means, go first. You might want to open your eyes first though," he added sarcastically. Lily laughed at his words, and passed him the black satin box. He opened it and smiled.

"It's not just a watch," she said quickly, and was about to explain, when Ethan interrupted, spluttering with laughter.

"Can it shoot lasers and send holograms?"

"You wish," she retorted. "You're a registrar, not James Bond, sorry to break it to you! Turn it over, is what I was _about_ to say!" Engraved into the back of the watch, were the words: _Mr and Mrs Hardy, since 27_ _th_ _September 2015._ Ethan pulled her into a tight hug, at a complete loss of what to say.

"I love you," he said simply. "Now, your turn." He lifted a box from the floor beside the bed. It was a little bigger than a shoebox, and wrapped carefully in white tissue paper. Lily pulled the paper away from the box delicately, not wanting to destroy what has clearly taken a lot of effort. She lifted the lid, and had to suppress a sob almost immediately.

She was utterly speechless.

Inside the box, cushioned on more layers of crystal white tissue paper, lay a new prosthetic foot. But the part that was usually smooth black plastic was white, and had been painted with an expert hand. Circling the plastic, around narrow emerald green leaves, were crimson roses and deep pink lilies. Like the flowers she'd been bought when they'd gotten engaged, and exactly the same as the flowers she'd be carrying tomorrow afternoon. She picked it up incredulously, turning it over and over in her hands.

"How did you..." she whispered.

"One of my old uni friends was rather adept with a paintbrush," Ethan said, indescribably pleased that he'd managed to make her so happy. "But, um, I did have a hand in it," he said quietly, pointing. Looped around the ankle, in his immaculate handwriting, it said: _Grow old with me, from 27_ _th_ _September 2015 until forever. Love always, Ethan_.

"That's a hint, by the way," he said knowingly.

"About what?" Lily asked.

"That would be telling." Lily sighed, racking her brains. She couldn't think what the hint could be. She was certain that there weren't any mysteries left surrounding tomorrow afternoon.

"I was right then. Blown right out of the water," she said, putting the foot gently back into the box. "It's beautiful." He kissed her, stroking her hair, which she'd long since pulled free of the French braid it had been in this morning.

"We should probably try to sleep a bit," he said sensibly.

"But I'm excited, and nervous, and a thousand other things," Lily protested. "I feel like I'll never sleep again."

"I'll remind you of that in the morning. You'll be asleep in less than an hour, I'm calling it now."

He wasn't wrong. Within the hour they lay tangled in each others' arms and Lily was fast asleep. On the edge of slumber himself, Ethan smiled blissfully. He was grateful. Grateful that he'd found someone so amazing to share his life with. Grateful that he'd proved everyone wrong. All of the bullies in his year at school, who had tried so hard, for so long, to make him feel small and worthless. Even Cal, to some extent, who'd always jokingly said that Ethan would grow to be a little old man with only books to keep him company. He fell asleep shortly afterwards, smiling despite the fact that Lily's hair had fallen into his face and he couldn't move it without waking her up.

 **Please leave a review, let me know if you liked it :)**


	27. Chapter 27 - Grow Old with Me

**I know I never title my chapters, but this one deserved a title! From the very first time I heard this song, by Tom Odell, I loved it, and I knew I wanted to write something based on it one day. It just seemed right to use it like this - and it answers the question of what Ethan was hinting at, towards the end of the last chapter!**

 **This is the second to last chapter of this story (I decided to split the finale after all) and I hope you like it, I loved writing it and it made me happy to finally reach this point!**

 **Chapter Twenty Seven - Grow Old with Me**

Lily and Dylan were sitting in the back of a beautiful old white care, being driven to Holby's registry office. He watched as she smoothed her skirt, again, and ran a hand over her hair for the fourth time in three minutes. He hair was neatly curled and swept over her left shoulder, with minute, elegant silver flowers studded through it. Tiny silver earrings matched the fine chain around her neck, dangling a delicate letter 'L' at her throat.

"Nervous?" he said quietly.

"You could say that," she replied. "Let's just hope I don't fall over in front of everyone – that would be the absolute worst case scenario!"

"You won't fall," Dylan reassured her. "If I know you, and I'd say that I do by now, you've practised so much that you could pretty much run a marathon in those shoes. And besides, I'm told that it's customary for you to be on my arm as we walk down the aisle. So as long as I stay upright, you'll be fine. And if we both trip, I give you my blessing to blame it all on me. On this occasion, I'll quite literally take the fall for you." He smiled, and Lily just about returned it, even though she was shaking like a leaf with the nerves of the day.

"I'm honoured," she relied jokingly, although her hands trembled. Dylan shuffled across the back seat as far as his seatbelt would allow.

"It will be okay, you know. Come here." Lily followed suit with the shuffling and let him put his arm around her. She watched him start tapping his knee with his free hand, but it wasn't in fours, it was just normal impatience tapping – she knew he'd been checking the time at regular intervals throughout the journey. She sighed, realising just how different things were now, to how they'd been six months ago, a year ago even. And how different they'd be again in a matter of hours. Lily turned her head slightly, so Dylan would see her glancing at his tapping hand. He rolled his eyes.

"Oh come off it, I'd be such a liar if I said I was completely calm about this. It's not as if I've got any idea what I'm meant to be doing!" he said, and Lily could sense and anxious edge in his voice.

"We're both going to be just fine," she said steadyingly. It gave her strength, knowing that to some extent she was forcing her own worries aside for Dylan's sake. On reflection, this was the most bizarre thing of all. He'd never been one to wear his emotions on his sleeve or ask for help, and yet Lily would read him like a book. She valued their friendship massively, despite the unexpectedness and unusual dynamic of the whole thing. Underneath it all, they were very similar people.

"If I need to stop tapping, you need to stop impulsively tucking your hair behind you ear," he said pointedly. "You've got just as many nervous tics as I do, you know!"

Lily looked outside the car at the traffic, inhaling deeply through her nose, showing her impatience. Dylan looked down at his watch, reading her thoughts precisely.

"Fifteen minutes," he said. "For a doctor, you're one of the most impatient people I know," he said. Lily snorted with laughter.

"Coming from you!" she laughed.

"Anyway, I'm sure you're entitled to be late to your own wedding. As alien as that concept might be to you!"

When they arrived at the registry office (only five minutes late, although Lily had been on edge for all three hundred seconds) they immediately saw Zoe standing out on the pavement with a cigarette between her fingers. She wore a knee-length, sweetheart-necklined dress in deep turquoise, and her dark hair was drawn up into an immaculate updo. As she noticed the car pull up, she stubbed out the cigarette quickly and smiled. Dylan got out of the car first, and was about to walk around to the other side to let Lily out when he realised she was shuffling across the seat. Zoe laughed so hard she had to dab at her eyes to keep her make-up in tact. Dylan scowled in mock anger.

"I was going to come around and open the door for you," he said in exasperation.

"Oh leave her be Dylan," Zoe giggled. "Lily, you're in a wedding dress, which part of your brain told you it would be elegant to shuffle across the back seat of a car?" Lily, still sitting in the car, on Dylan's side now, didn't respond. She raised her eyebrows and shrugged a little. Zoe mimed zipping her lips.

"Let's see you then!" the consultant said, having heard nothing of the dress Lily had chosen.

Lily swung her legs out of the foot well first, and instinctively Dylan put out his hand to help her up onto the pavement. Ordinarily she would have refused his help, but she remembered the heels on her shoes and reminded herself that she didn't want two grazed knees protruding from under her dress. She accepted Dylan's hand, and eased herself out of the car. She smoothed her skirt one last time, glaring at Dylan so that he wouldn't make a comment. Zoe let out a low whistle.

The dress was white, and just brushed Lily's knees. It was overlaid with intricate lace, and it suited her down to the ground. It wasn't low cut at the front, quite the reverse, but it dipped at the back to just above the line of her bra. The skirt was slightly gathered at the waist, so that the fabric swirled a little in the light breeze. Feeling beautiful, and confident for once, Lily stood a bit taller in the heels she'd once fought to remain upright in. In a last moment of anxiety, she pressed her lips together tightly.

"Ready?" she said.

"Not quite," Zoe said, gesturing to where Lily had just smudged her red lipstick. Lily tried to fix it, but only made it worse, prompting Zoe to pull a tissue from her clutch bag and rub the lipstick away herself.

"Was that really necessary Zoe?" Dylan said. "You're not her mother."

"I have no objections," Lily said, pleased that Zoe had sorted her out. "My own mother isn't coming, remember? So no-one else was going to make sure I didn't have lipstick down my face in all the photos!" The young doctor smiled. "Are we ready _now_?"

"Ready," Zoe agreed.

Lily and Dylan stood just outside the hall. Lily felt her heart fluttering in her chest, making the lace of her dress quiver. They heard a song begin to play, and tears immediately sprang into Lily's eyes. This was Ethan's final surprise, the one thing he'd kept a secret from her. Lily looked down to her beautiful artificial foot, where the words _Grow old with me_ looped around the ankle in Ethan's handwriting. This was the song he'd chosen for her to walk down the aisle to, and it was perfect. Dylan smiled. He'd known about this all along, and had anticipated this reaction.

"You've not even started saying your vows yet, hold it together Lily!" he said gently, pulling a cotton handkerchief from his pocket and handing it to Lily. She wiped her eyes carefully, then nodded to him, taking her bouquet of flowers back.

"Let's go," she whispered.

As Lily and Ethan said their vows, Dylan glanced behind him, towards the door, and saw a well-dressed Asian couple hovering outside the room.

"Ethan Hardy, do you take Lily Chao to be your lawfully wedded wife?"

"I do."

"And Lily Chao, do you take Ethan Hardy to be your lawfully wedded husband?"

"I do."

"It gives me great pleasure, therefore, to pronounce you husband and wife!"

There was an eruption of applause as Lily and Ethan kissed: tears glistening on her cheeks and she put a hand on his cheek and one on the back of his neck, and both of his hands dropped to her waist after untucking her hair from behind her left ear. It was impressive that they managed to kiss so tenderly through such joyful smiles.

It was Ethan's turn to be surprised, as they left the hall arm in arm. Lily had chosen the song for their exit, one that she'd loved for a long time and accurately summed up everything that she felt when she was with him. As the chorus of Josh Groban's _Brave_ filled the room, Ethan swept Lily off her feet, as he had done so many times before, and carried her out of the room, the pair of them like a stock image for a wedding catalogue, their smiles were so wide and their eyes glittering with excitement.

Out on the steps of the registry office, the rest of the ED staff started throwing confetti into the air for the photographs. Flimsy paper shapes scattered in their hair, catching in the lace of Lily's dress and between the flowers in her bouquet, they kissed again, surrounded by all their friends, in a photo they would treasure forever. It felt like a lifetime ago that Lily had been fighting for her life, and Ethan had been terrified that this day might never come at all.


	28. Chapter 28

**Here it is, the very last chapter! I hope you've enjoyed the story and think that this is a fitting end :)**

A thousand tiny fairy lights studded the ceiling of the wedding reception, emitting a glow wich sparkled of everything below it. Dylan and Rita sat at one of the many tables surrounding the dance floor. They clinked their champagne glasses together as they watched Lily and Ethan take to the floor for their first dance, his arm around her waist.

Lily was very aware of everyone looking at them, and felt her cheeks glowing pink. She pressed a hand to them, hoping her cool fingers might take the edge off the ferocious blush. She faced Ethan and looked nervously into his eyes. He took her hands as though he was about to lead her into a dance, and Lily suddenly froze, paralysed with fear. She closed her eyes for a few seconds and inhaled through her nose, pressing down the wave of nerves as best she could. She became aware that Ethan was hugging her closely to him. Her head resting against his shoulder, she matched her breathing to his, exactly as they used to do in the small hours of the morning. They swayed gently like this for a few moments, before Lily stood up straight again.

"Okay?" Ethan checked.

"Sorry, I just -"

"It's okay, don't panic. Just follow my lead," he said smoothly.

"I didn't know you could dance!"

"I can't," Ethan admitted sheepishly. "But if you follow me, at least it'll look like it's my fault we're making a dog's dinner of our first dance." Lily pressed her lips onto his, because she didn't know how else to express the thoughts blossoming in her head. He deserved so much more than her, and yet she loved him far more than she knew how to say.

As the song changed, other couples started to join them on the dance floor. Dylan stood up from the table, and for one heart-stopping moment Rita thought he was going to ask her to dance.

"Would you like another drink, Rita?" he asked, and she expertly covered the disappointment she felt.

"Um, yes, just a coke please," she replied. He nodded and headed in the direction of the bar. He'd just ordered two cokes when he felt a light tap on his shoulder and wheeled around straight away. He was stunned to find that Lily's parents were standing behind him. The resemblance between Lily and her mother was striking, right down to the way the older woman tucked a strand of hair back into the neat bun at the nape of her neck.

"Alexander Chao," the man said, offering his hand for Dylan to shake. He took it, unsure of where this situation was going to lead.

"Dylan Keogh," he replied uncertainly. "You must be Lily's parents."

"We are indeed," Lily's mother said. "Elizabeth Chao," she went on, holding out her own hand. "We wondered if we might have a very brief conversation with you -"

"Of course. Here?"

"Here is fine," Alexander said. "I realised this morning what a dreadful mistake we – _I –_ had made, in telling Lily that we wanted no part in this."

"She was in pieces for days," Dylan said, on the cusp of bitterness. He couldn't help himself though, they had to understand how much it had hurt Lily, for her parents to say that that wouldn't be involved in the most special day of her life.

"And we regret it all," Elizabeth said. "We were stupid not to see how happy she is by Ethan's side, the obviously mean a great deal to each other."

"They do, no question," Dylan said, wishing he could be somewhere else.

"I wanted to thank you personally, for giving out daughter away this afternoon," Alexander said.

"Oh, you don't have to say anything, it was a favour for a friend," Dylan said, although he instantly regretted his choice of words. _A very good friend_ , he thought, _who'd hate to hear you say something like that_. "We've been friends for some time now, she was exceptionally kind to me a few months ago, when I was really struggling. She's a real credit to you, you must be very proud." He added that last part on purpose, knowing that the one thing that had upset Lily the most had been her belief that her parents would never be proud of her.

"We are," Alexander said quietly. "She was never very popular at school you see, so we were very pleased to see that she's got friends such as yourself in her life."

"Thank you," Dylan replied awkwardly. "That's very kind of you to say, but I really think that Lily needs to hear this more than I do."

"Of course, of course. Thank you for your time, Dr Keogh."

As they headed towards where Lily and Ethan were standing, Rita made her way over to the bar.

"I was beginning to think you'd disappeared!" she said, smiling.

"I wish I had, that was perhaps the most bizarre conversation I've ever had in my life."

"Wait, are they..."

"Lily's parents? Yeah, I couldn't believe it either." He looked over to the dance floor again, and a warm sense of relief flooded through him. He saw Lily forget all the strain of her relationship with her parents, to literally run across the room to greet her the, despite her dress, her heels, her artificial foot and the fact that everyone could see her. Like a little girl, her skirt fluttering around her knees, she almost fell into her father to hug him. Dylan wondered what he was saying to his daughter, but he instantly knew it was making her extremely happy, because he could see Ethan putting a hand on his wife's lower back as happy tears spilled down onto her cheeks for at least the third time today.

"She got her happy ending at last then," Rita said, watching Ethan shaking hands with Lily's father.

"looks like it, doesn't it," Dylan replied.

"I'm really warm, you want to bring your drink outside?" Rita asked, wanting to pull Dylan away from the hustle and bustle of the extremely public bar. He nodded gratefully, and followed her out of the French doors, out into the now pitch darkness, except for little lanterns on posts in the grass. They sat together on a bench, looking back at the party. Rita glanced down at Dylan's drink.

"Are you not drinking either?" she said.

"I guessed you weren't, because I noticed you're on the early shift in the morning, and I didn't want to rub it in too much that I'm not in until the afternoon," he said wryly. Rita nudged him playfully.

"You're not wrong, I'm on at six in the morning, I'm sure Connie still hates me!"

"Rubbish, she just likes to flex her Evil Overlord muscles every once in a while, to remind you who's in charge. She probably overheard you referring to it as 'your department' again, and got all defensive over it." Rita laughed at Dylan's words, remembering the morning she'd stayed in work after a night shift to help Dylan with his paperwork, and had found it very funny indeed that one of the piles had been labelled 'E̶v̶i̶l̶ ̶O̶v̶e̶r̶l̶o̶r̶d̶ Clinical Lead.'

"You're probably right. I should be getting off, I need to go and say goodbye to Holby's golden couple first though." She paused, standing up and leaving her glass on the bench. "There's one good thing about us not drinking tonight though."

"Oh?"

"At least you'll know I'm almost completely sober when I do this -" She leant down to leave a goodnight kiss on his lips before quickly heading away. Dylan was stunned, but the most surprising thing was that he actually hadn't minded.

In fact, he couldn't wait until he'd have a chance to kiss her again.

 _The End._

 **After all I've done to these characters, in The Power of Love and this story, it felt right to make sure they all got their happy endings. It felt a bit weird to write Dylan/Rita with all the Rita/Iain going on at the moment, but I wanted to especially make sure that this chapter tied everything up for him, after everything that I put him through!**

 **Thank you so much to everyone who's reviewed this story, and a special thank you to those of you who have read through both stories and followed this to the very end. It feels bizarre to be drawing a line under this after so long, but I hope you've enjoyed it all the same, please leave me one last review to let me know what you think :)**


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